Nothing Left To Lose
by SierraSilver
Summary: Quercus Alba has escaped during his Cohdopian trial, leaving it up to Lang and Franziska to find him and the smuggling ring before it's too late.  What they soon discover though, is that the danger they've been searching for is much closer to home…
1. Prologue

Yeah, yeah. I know I said the next fic I posted would be the sequel to Crystal Clear or the rewritten Tabula Rasa, but I got sidetracked, and I really wanted to write something about AAI. So I made this. (And I've already been working on it for three months, so it's completely planned out.) I'll try to post every Wednesday, but if I do not have time the schedule will be expanded to every 1 and ½ weeks, or to 2 weeks.

Note: This is not a Lang/Franziska fanfiction. If you were looking for a Lang/Franziska fanfiction, this is not one. But please read it anyway. XD.

For those of you who read Crystal Clear, you know that I write prologues that seem to have nothing to do with the story. But they do. All will become clear in the future. And reviews are always appreciated.

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters.

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_They were asleep._

_They lay still, head tilted to the side, slumped in the chair. Their eyes were shut tightly to the world, though that was no real surprise given their current situation. They were likely dreaming- if they were, definitely a nightmare. Their mouth was twisted to a painful expression, and their eyelids no doubt hid fear, anger, frustration, or most likely- sadness. Of what, it wasn't that difficult for their observer to imagine. She understood perfectly._

_Perfectly enough to delight in their sadness, to enjoy every moment of their pain. It was for this reason that she had stayed here, watching them from the window in the doorway, a vague crescent of moonlight illuminating her view from the tiny portal to the outside in the opposite wall. It was from her current distance that she could really observe what harm she had caused, that she could add such an accomplishment to her ever-growing pile of similar successes. She took all of the vicious emotions of those who she injured and used them as fuel. She never needed her own emotions. She wouldn't be pushed around and told what to do by frail ghosts in her mind, by haunting regrets, and brief wondering how she had turned out this way. How long ago had it been that she had disappeared? That she'd turned from a little girl into…into this being she was now? What most would call a sociopath, a monster…what most would call evil._

_She pitied those who did. They were so righteous, so caught up in pursuing what they believed to be correct path, the way of 'good', that they did not stop to see that life really was somehow better on the side they called 'evil'. That using people was just as fulfilling as being friends, many times simpler, and much more effective in reaching goals. She was perfectly content to live an evil life._

_But she was becoming sidetracked. She didn't need to use this moment to justify actions that didn't need justification. She preferred to use this moment to simply be lost in reverie, to think back over her assignment and what she had gained from it. She of course, had her accomplishment of causing another pain, and that thrill she'd felt was greatly increased by the current situation. Here she stood on the other side of a wall to a room in which this person stayed. Here, only a few days passed and already the tables had turned completely. She could never be held down by silly laws. It was good to be free again, and even better to have someone almost…taking her place. _

_In the back of her mind, she felt the ghosts nag at her; the last shreds of a conscience that she had possessed coming back to well, haunt her. She wondered about taking the assignment in the first place- without knowing what would happen once she began to interact with a target individual. Certainly, she'd done it before and managed to not find any good qualities in those she'd betrayed, but now…she couldn't help but wonder if there really were some good qualities to her latest target. No, it was more than just wondering. She had meant everything she'd said about them. The bad and annoyingly enough, the good. The bad- of course, it was simply her wishing her jobs were more difficult, that humans weren't so dreadfully naïve. That someone, especially this particular target, might have begun to see through her. _

_Though perhaps it had just been leftover ghosts from one of her other assignments…there had been so many, and they had been so complex…_

_She looked back one last time at the person inside the room, stopping the ghosts from speaking just for a moment so she could absorb the feelings they were giving off. She smiled for a moment, then reached up a hand to her cheek and encountered…the bruise._

_There were two things that made her upset about this- the first, that she was being treated like the enemy by her own side…how could they do this to her, even for a job? It was going too far- she would go undercover, attempt risky missions, jeopardize her health and safety, but this? No. She would not allow herself to be treated like this. She would do something about it. And she knew exactly what that would be._

_The second thing that bothered her was the fact that it worked so well. That the bruise on her check was the reason she could stand here now, looking at the person in the room. In fact, it upset her just to know the reason she wasn't further injured, or even dead, was because of…_

_No. She couldn't even say it._

_There was a loud coughing from the next room, shattering her worrisome reverie into bits and shaking her back to the present. She walked to the next room and looked in the window as well- though there was nothing new to see. This display bored her, and she had more important things to do. Like stare into the first room more. It was as though she wanted to be terrorized by ghosts._

_But the person she had planned to watch had awakened then, and was looking into the next room through a connecting window. They were tempting fate, sliding their fingers along the window, as though searching for a weak point. She watched them press the window in, and, seeing no mechanical response, prepare to smash the thin glass. They were going to attempt to go into the next room, to see what was there and…no. She had gotten in enough trouble for revealing something else…she couldn't allow this person she watched to do this…_

_Footsteps on the ground. Loud, commanding footsteps that she would have recognized anywhere, at any time. She had thought of them before as a good thing- it made her happy, the way that knowing she was 'evil' made her happy. But now…she looked down the hallway at the approaching figure, and touched the bruise on her cheek._

_This person had caused that. And they were likely going to cause it again. All for the sake of toying with the unfortunate someone in the room._

_**Their prisoner.**_


	2. Chapter 1

This chapter is: The Introduction of an Important Stranger. ( won't let me type that all in.)

The chapter titles are odd. All 16 of them. I will try to continue with the weekly posting, though school has started so it may be slower than Crystal Clear. (Different school.)

Anyway, several OCs are introduced. When I can't think of a name, I either take out an atlas and flip through it or look at names of poisons that sound like colors. I'm not going to do another Mirabel Kasanov thing and have the name accidently rearrange to um...something. That was creepy.

So, anyway...reviews are always appreciated. Thank you to Indochine Ramera and FeyFan for previous reviews.

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Cohdopia was a beautiful country, really. Though he'd been here before many times, it was still a marvel how accurately the flag portrayed the essence of the land, the way it captured each individual flower and, in turn, every butterfly that went along with it. Even through the car's tinted windows, the view was stunning.

He didn't enjoy it. Not at all. The hour-long scenic vista was one of the most nerve-wracking experiences in his career.

"_**I simply don't understand how the authorities could be so unconcerned as to not secure the area! There should have been at least a small unit of officers outside the courthouse, and yet there was only one clueless patrolman!"**_

As the government escort vehicle pulled to a stop, he took a moment to thank the driver and collect the basic report he'd been given upon arrival at the airport. In actuality, there was very little information in the papers, and the majority of what he knew came from a telephone conversation he'd had approximately twenty-two hours ago.

"_**The court bailiffs were completely useless as well…it's almost surprising they didn't end up shooting people on their own side…"**_

The building he'd been dropped off at was large and ancient, with dark brown bricks and few windows. A newer looking metal sign at the front stated very simply that it was the 'Allebahstian Bureau of Investigation', and the smaller print stated that visitors should find their way inside to the main office for further direction.

"_**As for the intruders, their faces were completely obscured. The scene was far too chaotic for me to obtain any information about them…"**_

He found the information desk in the main lobby easily enough, and the person behind it nodded at him. They spoke a few more unintelligible words in the native language, then hung up the phone and looked at him.

"Are you here for the investigation?"

He nodded, and unveiled his identification information for the receptionist. There was a moment of silence as she scrutinized the details, then nodded.

"You're the lead on this case, aren't you? Come to meet with those involved?"

Another nod. The receptionist laughed suddenly, and he blinked back in time to about a week and a half before.

No. He wasn't going to think about _that._ He would get that sickening feeling again, and wouldn't be able to shake it for the rest of the day.

"Well, you're in for a real treat. Whoever that lady who seems to be running the investigation is, she's completely crazy. If I were you, I'd stay out of her way. But I guess you can't, can you…"

"No. I can't. Now where am I supposed to go?" he said sharply, surprising himself. Perhaps it was that she had reminded him of..._her. _His mood had instantly gone sour, despite him trying to make the reaction cease.

The receptionist pointed to a hallway, and he walked down it, trying to become his normal, overconfident self again. He wasn't worried about what was happening now. He didn't feel betrayed from what had happened in the past. He wasn't going to think about the incident in the future.

"_**The entire operation took place in less than a minute. The intruders clearly knew the layout of the building and the best method for escape."**_

The facts of the case were the only things that were important now. Repeating this silently over and over, he reached the end of the hallway and put his hand upon the door handle, unsure of what to expect. It was very unlike the previous times- when he had _always _known exactly what he needed to expect, what he needed to be careful of…when his entire career had run so incredibly smoothly without even a little bit of his help. Now he never knew what was going to happen.

Even so, he opened the door and stepped through into the chaos of the room.

"Agent Lang! It's about time you got here!"

This must have been the 'crazy lady' as described by the receptionist. He wasn't surprised at all- she'd been the one who had called him there anyway, so it was only natural to assume she would be leading the case. He didn't mind. A familiar face was a bit less uncertainty to have to deal with…and besides, she had made a good Interpol agent in the past, so he wouldn't have any qualms about her being involved in the investigation.

The rest of the room was composed of uniformed Cohdopian officers milling about aimlessly, with a few other lower-rank agents mixed in. There was a great deal of sound waves that floated around the room dizzily, and he tried to pretend he didn't keep hearing a certain name come up over and over again.

" Well, I suppose you've already heard all of the general information about this case, so we can focus on the most important details," von Karma began when he had approached her. "Our main priority is locating and bringing justice to Quercus Alba, and our secondary priority is to locate the members of the smuggling ring who aided his escape."

He felt a rush of anger go through him at the very mention of the escape.

"How could they have let this happen…" he mumbled to himself. Von Karma looked down.

"I'm…not entirely sure, but the most important fact was that the perimeter of the courthouse was ridiculously insecure, and moments before the intruders entered, all of the windows spontaneously shattered, causing instant chaos and an opportunity for escape. Whoever was responsible had the perfect strategy…which only makes me want to find them and punish them _more_."

"Then let's _find _them." He turned toward one of the black-clad lower ranked agents. "You! Number one over there!"

The agent turned with extremely wide eyes, "Shifu?"

"Gather up the agents and talk to everyone in this place. I want names, addresses, phone numbers, all criminal history…and exactly where they were at the time of the incident. Report anything suspicious straight to me. And search the courthouse too."

"Yes, sir! Right away, sir!"

He felt himself grin smugly- he would never get tired of the feeling of power. And he didn't know what he would possibly do without it- he needed to be the one giving orders, a characteristic which he probably shared with the other person running this investigation.

"And seeing as they had a perfect strategy, I believe we can deduce that this was the work of someone with knowledge of the exact circumstances that would occur. Not to mention a knowledge of the layout of the building and surrounding area…" von Karma said, surveying the room as though expecting to instantly find the perpetrator. But the room was simply a mass of agents.

"Right. Did you see anything suspicious when it happened?"

The prosecutor gritted her teeth. "No, I…was distracted by the glass…I missed many of the important details, though I do remember several figures entering and Quercus Alba escaping. The trial hadn't started yet, and the judge was still looking through the trial papers. The audience was quite small, so few people were injured by the glass," she paused, "Speaking of injuries, you were injured last week, weren't you?"

"Yeah…" Why did she have to bring that up? He was tired of thinking about it…

"Then you should be careful to avoid exerting yourself. Although, I suppose I'm not one to talk…" von Karma trailed off, and he considered the pause to be a sign that this conversation had finished.

She didn't seem to agree. "I have to say, it was extremely foolish of you to take a bullet for someone, particularly for a criminal. Frankly, I don't think she deserved to be saved at all, even if she was your assistant."

"Yeah, I know that." He looked around desperately for some sort of distraction, but found none. Why did she have to bring it up? He'd already been reminded once of the issue since his arrival at the station…

"…And it would be detrimental to the investigation if you committed the same act a second time."

She made it sound as though it was something he'd planned in advance, marked off on his calendar and counted down the days. As though he'd had more than one, singular thought in his head when he'd stood in between a firing gun and his…former assistant.

As though nearly sacrificing his life for known criminals was something he did all the time.

"Alright, I get it. I won't do it again, and I don't think there'll be any reason for me to do it in the future."

"Yes, because you had every reason to endanger yourself-"

To his relief, von Karma abruptly ceased her sarcastic commentary upon the opening of the door. Three individuals entered the room- not particularly remarkable, but he was able to deduce their profession, age, and likely their general disposition. He took note of the facts, as these were likely to be people involved in the investigation.

Two appeared to be Interpol agents- a man and a woman, perhaps both in their thirties and serious-looking. Although…he didn't trust anyone's appearance now- it was far too easy to deceive, far too easy to gain someone's trust and use it against them. He refused to take another chance.

The third was far older, likely in his sixties, and wore black robes which marked him as a judge. The only plausible reason he could think of for a judge to be here was that this man was the judge of Quercus Alba's trial. And, to confirm this point, von Karma seemed to recognize him.

"Hello, Judge Wellington. I presume you've come to oversee the case?"

"I was told by Interpol that those with any connection to the trial should come here to aid the investigation." Wellington spoke in a formal, serious tone. "These are two important agents with some ties to this country, selected by Interpol to assist you. Thomas Caspian and Rebecca Cyan."

There was a moment of silence which he used to observe the agents again. No one made any attempts at handshakes or exchanging of business cards. He did not see a successful bond of respect and trust being formed with these two.

But then again, could he ever see himself trusting a stranger again?

"Well, thank you for coming on such short notice." Von Karma spoke in his silence, "I've heard there has been a serious investigation of Interpol since the events last week."

"Yes," the agent called Caspian finally spoke, "I assure you though- we are completely loyal to Interpol, unlike certain members who have been found to be traitors. I apologize for my organization in regard to what occurred last week."

"It's no concern of yours, Agent Caspian. Fortunately we were able to locate the traitor before more harm could be caused."

He wondered briefly if von Karma was watching her words- she hadn't spoken the name out loud at all, and was using purely impersonal expressions. Could she tell what he was thinking? That he…still had trouble accepting this new reality he'd been thrust into?

He resolved to be less obvious in the future- to others, and to himself.

"Caspian, we have orders to report to the courthouse to oversee the agents there." Cyan said, reading from her phone. It was the first time he'd heard her speak since she'd arrived, and though he couldn't note any signs of imminent disloyalty and betrayal in her voice, he wasn't entirely sure what to be looking for. Or if he should even be trying to look- perhaps it was just the same horrible, endless paranoia that had refused to leave him alone for the last week. There had always been, in the back of his mind, the brief notion that his system of trusting people was far too risky. That he had grown too used to being surrounded by a team of incredibly loyal people, and so giving his trust to those he met came dangerously easy. And if…someone who he thought he'd known so well could…hide an entire double life from him, who knew what a stranger might do?

But von Karma seemed to trust them. It was probably easy for her- she'd never experienced that kind of betrayal. She worked with people…who could be trusted. She would never understand his uncertainty, his paranoia.

"Alright," Caspian responded to Cyan, then turned to face them again, "A pleasure to meet you. We will be at the crime scene."

The two agents turned and left the room, unnoticed in the vast sea of uniform-clad officers. Wellington cleared his throat and began to speak.

"So, Miss von Karma and…" the judge turned to look him.

"Shi-Long Lang. I work for Interpol," he said quickly, extracting a business card. It appeared he would have to use them after all.

Wellington took the card, examined it disinterestedly, and pocketed it.

"…Agent Lang, then. I am here to provide information about the case and to assist Interpol. Is there anything I can help with?"

"Yes…" von Karma began, "Did you observe anything suspicious before or after the incident? In terms of bailiffs, officials, and so on, I mean."

"No," the judge replied, "and I had not yet entered the courtroom when the incident occurred, so I have no information regarding that. You may want to speak to someone else who was in the room at the time."

She nodded. "Yes, and I requested that the attorney, Jacob Baikal, be here, though I haven't seen him at all. Do you know where he is?"

He saw Wellington's face turn to slight scowl, and wondered what it was. Normally, he would have immediately said something, but...

"No, he hasn't been seen since the incident yesterday. I believe he was in the courtroom at the time as well, but now he is suddenly gone."

The idea of someone disappearing under suspicious circumstances seemed rather chilling in the unfamiliar place, and he wondered if there was any truth to the flickers of thoughts in his head. Was there some significance to this?

"Well, I would like to investigate the courthouse now, but I assume you'll be present at future meetings regarding the case?"

"Yes, and I'll see what information I can find for you. Until then, Miss von Karma, Agent Lang."

Von Karma bid him goodbye and they left the room. The agents seemed to have finally begun to disperse, and he noticed several speaking to passersby as they walked through the hallway and toward the doors at the front of the building.

"Well, you certainly had a lot to say, Agent Lang," von Karma broke the silence once they were outside.

"Yeah, I know." He felt sort of bad about it, but the conversation felt out of place for him. He was used to addressing large crowds of eager investigators. He left the formal extraction of information to, well, other people.

His train of thought halted when he noticed von Karma looking at him strangely, as though expecting him to offer some sort of explanation.

"Let's just go to the crime scene, sis."

And he walked faster to the nearest empty Interpol van.

"_**Hello. I suppose that you're Agent Lang, aren't you? A pleasure to meet you."**_

The courthouse was only about the distance of two city blocks from the Bureau of Investigation, and it there were no other buildings that blocked the view, only a moderately busy street. It wasn't very large- at least not nearly as large as the one he'd seen in America, and much smaller than the one in his home city in Zheng Fa. He wasn't in courthouses very often- his job didn't usually require it- but it seemed as though it had a nice enough atmosphere, from the trees around the parking lot to the flower-decorated walls in the interior lobby. All seemed perfectly fine...

…Until they entered courtroom number two.

Several of the windows had been completely smashed in, spilling their glass upon the audience box. Wooden surfaces were riddled with bullet holes. He saw no blood though, and assumed that everyone had either been very lucky, or a custodian had already cleaned it up. Still, the thought of the entire smuggling ring descending from both sides on the room was chilling, and he wondered how long it would take for the entire building to return to normal.

"Horrible, isn't it? There must be some way to make the ring pay for defacing of property…"

He scowled. "They'll be paying for a whole lot more than that."

He walked father into the room, examining the mess of bullet holes and glass, wondering what it had been like at the time. And more importantly, how it could have happened. How had the ring planned this so perfectly? How could the windows all have shattered at the same time? How could they have entered and escaped with Quercus Alba in such a short amount of time?

"_**I'm new to Interpol, actually. I have not had much experience in the field of criminal detainment, and I was told that working with you would be very beneficial for my knowledge of the subject."**_

In his experience investigating the ring, however, he'd noticed that they seemed to have followers everywhere, a constant flow of business, and a way around every trap. So, he suspected there had been some sort of contingency plan for if the leader of the ring were to be captured. Quercus Alba had enough loyal minions to come rescue him, were that ever necessary. They had probably never even seen this as a setback.

He did wonder though- what was the reason for so many members of the ring to be in Cohdopia, though? It was as if they had already been here, planning something else, before Quercus Alba arrived and they pulled their 'courthouse-break'. The ring seemed to plan in advance, too, so if he could look back in time to uncover the reason, he might be able to stop whatever they were planning. The possibility sounded good.

"_**No, I haven't ever investigated a case before this. I had thought of becoming a defense attorney, but later I made the decision that I couldn't ever defend those who were likely guilty…"**_

Perhaps if he could obtain some sort of inside information into the ring, he could make a plan for the future. And it couldn't be that hard to obtain information, could it? If he could find someone with that information who had no choice but to tell him…

"Agent Lang." Von Karma broke his reverie. He looked over to see her near a window in the audience box, examining something, and ascended the stairs to approach her.

"Find something?"

"Yes. There's something besides glass here. There appears to be small pieces of plastic and several bits of wire. I'd say it's likely that there was some sort of device on here."

He shot a look at the fragments in the area. "Some kind of bomb, I'd guess."

"It certainly looks that way. I suppose that if there were explosives triggered by the same device on each of the windows, it would be possible to make them shatter at the same time."

He paused to imagine the image and sound four large windows shattering at the same time would make. Then, tracing it back to the tiny bomb it had come from…the explosives must have been planted far before the courthouse had opened. It would be near impossible for the ring to have spent time applying the bombs immediately before entering; they must have done so before and later returned when the correct time arrived.

"_**I suppose it will be very different than I'm accustomed to, working with you, and with such a large team from Interpol…I'm glad I am able to have this sort of experience…"**_

He wondered if someone who had some sort of knowledge of the history and tactics of the ring might be a valuable help on the case, and where he might find someone of this description. Who he trusted, of course.

"I suppose these explosives were planted far before the incident, and then activated later. It looks as though they might have used some sort of portable ladder here to enter through the windows, or perhaps there was a van parked here with a hatch for climbing to the roof…" she paused, surveying the parking lot through the missing window, "The investigators said they found tracks belonging to government cars, which I suppose the ring might be using."

He nodded and resumed his internal monologue. Who could he still trust that fit the description of someone who had investigated the ring? He remembered with a bit of pain that Akbey Hicks could not- he had been killed in the line of duty. But if not him, then who?

Oh. Of course.

"Hey, sis…"

"…What is it?" she looked up from her examination of the outside.

"You think Prosecutor Edgeworth might want to help with the investigation?"

Von Karma stared at him for a moment, as though she couldn't believe he had said that.

"Why would he do that?"

"He was already working on the case, he'd probably like to see it through for a second time…"

Before he could get to further reasons, she interrupted.

"No. Absolutely not."

"But he was a big help last time, and you two seem to work alright to-"

"This is my case. Not his." She sounded so cold and defiant. It struck as odd, and he wondered what had gotten into her.

"I really think he would help, though…Lang Zi sa-"

"No. I refuse to give up this case to him."

He paused for a moment, having realized there would be no reasoning with von Karma at all. She really did not want the prosecutor to come, and nothing he did was going to change her mind. Though…he suppose he didn't quite need to change her mind.

"I'm going to call him and ask. I think he'd want to help."

She scowled at him. "I suppose I don't have any say in the matter then. You two go _solve _the case." Her tone was extremely sarcastic and bitter, but he still felt as though this was the right decision.

Von Karma marched off, and he looked out the window to the relatively busy parking lot. He supposed he had two calls to make now. The first to the prosecutor, to inform him of what had transpired, possibly request help, and if the answer was positive, to warn him of the fact that he was already quite unwelcome. He wondered what sort of issue von Karma had with the prosecutor taking the case. It was as though she felt it was being stolen. How odd.

The second call would be one of a completely different nature. He'd gotten another idea- it was probably a long shot, but if did work, it would be extremely helpful.

Operative words being 'if it did'. He didn't have too much faith- things didn't seem to be working out too well lately.

"…_**And I hope that I can be of service in your investigations…I'm sure the future will be very interesting, Agent Lang."**_


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter title: Meeting The Thief

Another chapter. It does not involve Kay Faraday. It does however, introduce two of the not quite-main-but-sort-of-supporting-role characters. You've met them before, obviously.  
Please review.

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters.

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She had awoken that morning in an inexpensive hotel in the Allebahstian city, unable to sleep even a second more. Not when she had a case to solve- what might become one of the most complicated, difficult, and dangerous cases yet. Not when she knew they were running on a strict timeline- if the ring could not be stopped by some day in the imminent future, the world economy might experience serious peril. Not when even a second of wait could mean the death of an innocent person- she had seen the horrible strength of the ring.

But most importantly, not when Miles Edgeworth was coming to completely take over her case.

She refused to allow what had occurred last time to happen again. She refused to allow him to randomly appear, seemingly with the intention of helping, but truly only to take her theories, shoot them down, and replace them with his own. It had always been like that- from the time that he'd arrived at the von Karma manor until now. For seventeen years, she'd had to put up with _him _being the star, the center of attention. She was completely fed up with it.

When she had begun her work with Interpol, it had been alone. She'd thought of nothing more than the relief of no longer being second. She was the first, the _only _person they had to solve things. She was the one they looked to for advice, for assistance, for the answer to the mystery that plagued them. She was alone. She would stop the smuggling ring alone. The only others she wanted there for help were lower-rank agents- to follow her, of course.

And Lang. She didn't mind working with him, really. He wasn't the type who tried to steal her job, beat her to conclusions, and, over all, correct her method of obtaining information. He worked _with _her, not in place of her. And though he'd proved to be the sort who at times behaved completely irrationally (such as taking a bullet for a criminal), she was certain that said tendency would pass with time. So she didn't mind him at all.

But now, he'd gone and asked Miles Edgeworth to help with the case. The very one who _did _steal her job. Who seemed to show up practically anywhere she had a case and snatch the truth away from her. And he would tell her that what she'd spent her life learning, what they'd _both _spent their lives learning, was completely wrong, and that she needed to abandon her creed of perfection for some foolish gibberish _he'd _made up. He wanted her to give up her life in favor of something that made absolutely no sense. And then he had the nerve to be 'worried' about her when she worked on a dangerous case, and try to put her out of danger by taking her work away from her.

And the thing that bothered her the most: he did it _so _easily. He was always one step ahead.

She would catch up. She would make him pay.

And so, it was with these thoughts that she began the day- the process of awakening, acquiring some sort of strawberry-tasting bread product from the hotel's breakfast bar, and entering the Interpol van they'd provided her with in order to drive to the Bureau of Investigation. She was in the middle of the ten-minute trip when her cell phone began to ring. She opened it without the thought of checking the caller ID.

"Yes?"

"Hey, sis. It's me."

She had a brief moment of confusion before realizing who had spoken. She supposed she still wasn't accustomed to any sort of nickname, and though she normally would have minded being called something other than her actual title; she had never thought to say anything to him. Besides, it was a good indicator of who she was speaking to.

"I am five minutes from the Bureau of Investigation. Is this urgent?"

"It's a favor."

The word 'favor' concerned her. It implied that she might have to do something she didn't particularly want to do.

"…And what is this favor?"

There was a pause, as though Lang was still compiling the script for the scene.

"Well, I'd ask an agent to go, but it's special and I'd like someone I know and trust."

She wondered if he was taking some sort of precaution due to the events of the previous week. After all, it must have been a paranoia-inducing experience. She couldn't imagine being in the same situation, though his strange behavior from the day before had given her a glimpse of what it must have been like.

"Are you going to tell me what it is, Agent Lang?"

She heard him grin. Impossible, but she was completely sure of it.

"Can you take one of the vans and drive to the airport? Mr. Edgeworth'll be there in an hour and a half or so."

_What?_

Was he _insane?_

"…That is not in the least bit funny."

Lang was still grinning loudly. "Yeah, I didn't think you'd want to. But you should hurry- the airport's an hour away."

"No! I refuse!"

"It's not so bad, sis. Lang Zi sa-"

"Are you listening to me!"

"I'll see you and Mr. Edgeworth later," he said, and the line went dead.

She wondered where the empty, lifeless personality he'd had the day before had gone, and how she could make him get it back.

* * *

This was ridiculous. This was absolutely ridiculous. Why was she doing this? Why was she piloting this Interpol van through the crowded streets in approachment of the airport, in order to _help _the person who destroyed her? Why was it _her _responsibility to make sure he could steal her case before she got any more time to investigate?

Worse still, she would have to endure an entire hour-long car ride with him, in which he would probably want to know the details of the case. And she would have to explain them to him. She would have to find the patience it took to not scream at him, and explain the facts that he shouldn't even have had the opportunity to know. And then, he would want to know about her personal involvement with the case, and how it had been dangerous to investigate it, and she should be more careful in the future. As though he had any right to talk. She refused to listen to his warnings. It wasn't like he actually cared, anyway.

Why was Lang making her do this? It was one thing to invite Miles Edgeworth to join the case despite her resounding disapproval, but it was another thing entirely to make her responsible for him. Did he just want to laugh at her? Why couldn't he have sent someone else?

"_**Well, I'd ask an agent to go, but it's special and I'd like someone I know and trust."**_

He made it sound as though it was something particularly risky, and he couldn't trust anyone else to overcome the dangers and keep whatever secrets there might be. But why would there be any kind of 'danger' or 'secrets'? She was just escorting a foolish fool from the airport back to the station. Nothing seemed odd about that, aside from the fact that _she _had to do it.

She arrived at the airport and navigated toward the arrivals gate. She'd been in airports a zillion times, and had been in this one only five days before, so it didn't take long to find the correct section for arrivals from the American West Coast. The sign seemed to proclaim that she'd reached the correct place with five minutes to spare. Five minutes to enjoy working alone on the case before a certain someone came to 'help'.

She took out her phone and scrolled through a translated version of an Allebahstian newspaper, in an attempt to commit chronocide and distract herself from the fact that her blood was still boiling.

"_**School standardized test averages reach a new high…"**_

"_**Allebahstian government planning to unite the country once again with the Republic of Bahbal…"**_

She skimmed the articles with no real interest, and continued scrolling the page.

"_**Allebahstian art show to begin soon, public enthusiasm begins to grow…"**_

"_**Embassy official set to have trial escapes from police custody…"**_

The final article detailed the incident in its condensed, police-filtered form, and so gave no names or other information. She didn't even spot a mention of the other man who'd disappeared during the event, Jacob Baikal. She was supposed to have faced him in court (she pitied the man, trying to defend Quercus Alba), but then the glass had shattered and he and the defendant had left the building through the windows. She couldn't quite remember what had happened- there had been far too many screams and gunshots, and she'd found herself slumped beneath the court bench, hoping desperately that the terror would subside. Perhaps, if she'd just been a little more aware…

The gate opened then, and a rush of passengers spilled into the reception area. She stood immediately, eyes scanning the crowds without particular interest or concern. It did take some effort to not march off and leave the airport before she had even seen him. She didn't, because she had to complete the favor. Besides, there was still some hope that he'd decided not to come after all, and she could just return to the station and keep investigating alo-

"Franziska."

She snapped from her reverie in a second and focused her attention on the person who stood before her, a completely blank expression on his face, as though he wasn't planning exactly how he was going to humiliate her in the next few days. The feeling of anger formed.

She attempted to punch him. He stepped out of the way, but seemed to show no other reaction.

"Yes, I was told you wouldn't be too happy to see me…"

"Why are you here?" she hissed.

He smiled innocently, as though he'd done nothing wrong.

"To help with the investigation, of course. Agent Lang asked me to come here."

She obviously already knew that, and the point of the question hadn't been the reason he'd come, but more the reason he'd dared to irritate her.

"I don't _need _your help."

The prosecutor looked at her with vague curiosity. "I don't understand why you're upset with me, Franziska. I felt that this case was my responsibility as well, and that I should see it to its finish."

That was the _problem. _He was always trying to 'help', always thinking of things as 'his responsibility'. When she'd been shot, he had taken her case because he'd thought it had become his concern. As though she couldn't have still taken care of it herself. As though she was so weak she would need to waste time on a physical injury.

And as far as she was concerned, she knew he hadn't really cared about her or the case- he'd simply wanted a way to beat Phoenix Wright. After all, if it was something she had failed at, he would have to succeed just to make her look bad.

She had even tried to work together with him during the other investigations- with her own personal goals, of course, and always keeping herself a level above him, but he had still managed to become the star, to win the trust of Lang. And now, because of that, he was here. It was as though he wanted her to go insane with annoyance and murder him.

"You don't have to. This is _my _assignment."

And then, even worse than feigning innocence, he suddenly began to play the 'concern' card.

"Yes. Your difficult and very dangerous assignment. I've heard the report of what occurred during Quercus Alba's escape. The smuggling ring is far more powerful than originally thought."

"I'm aware. What exactly is your point?"

"You could be seriously hurt if you attempt to lead such a risky investigation with very little help."

She resisted the urge to inform him that _he _might become seriously hurt if he continued to speak to her that way.

"I'm sorry, are you trying to convince me that it would be beneficial if you joined the investigation," she began with a tone of sarcasm, "or that it's far too dangerous for me and I should leave everything to you?"

She heard him sigh slightly.

"Franziska, questioning my motives in that way is childish. I would only like to help you in your investigation, and assure that no one becomes hurt. You know that very well."

And now, he was playing the 'don't be impolite' card. Why did he make arguing so difficult?

"Like I've already said before, Miles Edgeworth, I _don't _need your help. Goodbye."

She turned to march off, expecting him to follow and attempt to continue the previous conversation. He did not.

"Franziska, we can't leave yet."

What did he mean that they couldn't leave yet? Why should she have to listen to him?

"And why not?" she asked annoyedly, turning around.

He regarded her with confusion. "Have you forgotten the other reason you came?"

The other reason she'd come?

What was the other reason she'd come? Lang had only said to escort Miles Edgeworth from the airport and…

**Shih-na.**

What?

There she was, quickly approaching them, handcuffed and flanked by two guards. Shih-na, or Calisto Yew, or whatever her name was, had come from the arrivals gate and was now here, in Allebahst. Now the responsibility of Interpol. But why? And more importantly, why hadn't she been told?

"Miles Edgeworth! Explain!"

He gave her a look of concern. "Did you not know she was coming?"

"Does it _look _like I knew!"

Shih-na stopped at a point five feet away, as though awaiting the end of the rather loud discussion.

"I thought…that you and Agent Lang had requested her to come…"

She paused for a moment, a flash of words striking in her mind.

"_**Well, I'd ask an agent to go, but it's special and I'd like someone I know and trust."**_

Was this why? Was it the reason Lang had asked her to do this? Because she was to be escorting not only Miles Edgeworth but also a known criminal to the station?

"No. Agent Lang…didn't tell me…" she went quiet, then glanced around the room in the vague hope that an acceptable explanation would surface. She didn't like the idea of not being able to rely on normal Interpol agents to do simple tasks. The lack of trust was astonishingly wrong.

"That is…odd."

There was a long moment of silence, in which they both tried to resist the urge to look to Shih-na for an explanation. She could see though, in her peripheral vision, that the murderer was standing with a completely blank expression, as though they'd been speaking some other language.

The guards cut her reverie to a dead halt. "Are you taking this one?"

"We're supposed to be on a return flight in thirty minutes, and we don't have time to stand around waiting," the other added, as though it was of everyone's concern.

"Yes, we are," Miles spoke, turning to face the guard, "Thank you for your assistance."

"Oh, and we're supposed to tell you- there's some problem with this lady's passport and stuff. So she can't leave the country or something until they figure it out."

The men began to walk in the direction of the door, their prisoner in tow. She watched, the sense of anger at the deceit beginning to build. Why hadn't she been told? She could have come prepared for this, known exactly what the next step in the investigation would be…she could have been ready. Now it was as though she and Lang were working in completely different worlds, and she wouldn't know what to do when thrust into some other plan for the way this would transpire.

But she turned and followed anyway. Followed the one small factor that might change the case entirely.

* * *

She insisted on driving, as it gave her at least a bit of the feeling of being in control. Miles sat in the passenger's seat, and she resisted the urge to strangle him as punishment for seeing her confused. Likely, it had given him the impression that she could not possibly handle this case by herself, as she didn't even have a remote idea of the plan. She imagined him grinning inside, and tightened her grip on the steering wheel.

In the mirror to the back of the van, Shih-na could be seen sitting motionlessly, observing her handcuffs with a small smile on her face. Unfortunately, wearing such a deceptively evil grin was not considered a crime, and so nothing could be done about it. She tried to avoid looking in the mirror, and concentrated on the silence, but it didn't remain.

"What have you found during the investigation so far?"

Why was he speaking to her? Was he completely blind to the cloud of confused anger that emanated from the driver's seat?

"…We found that the ring used small explosives to shatter the windows, then entered and escaped with Quercus Alba."

There was a pause, and she supposed he was pondering the very few facts she'd given him, looking for some sort of question.

"I see. Do you have any theories as to how that could have been planned out?"

Was he looking for the weak point in her case? Trying to uncover the fact that no real theories had been spoken yet?

"I suppose they must have positioned the explosives beforehand, and known exactly when the correct moment would arrive," she said, quickly forming an idea of the obvious.

"And to organize such an event that quickly," Miles began, "They must have already had some sort of contingency plan for what would happen if Quercus Alba were ever arrested."

She was stricken with the fact that she should have thought of that first. Of course there was a contingency plan- Alba was the head of the ring, and his followers must have known that someday, there would be some kind of trouble between him and the judicial system. They had been ready for that day. It was a worrisome thought- if they were so quick to extract Alba from the police, they might just try the same thing with other arrested members of the ring. And that seemed like a very horrible turn of events to occur.

"Yes, it seems that way," she said simply, deciding to leave her conclusions for her own personal benefit, not his. She was not going to give up that easily.

"And, speaking of plans, do you have any idea of why Agent Lang would have requested that Ms. Yew come here?"

She shook her head, and saw Miles turn his head to the back of the van, as though waiting for the criminal's opinion. Said criminal did respond, the first words spoken since their arrival.

"I don't know…" Shih-na said innocently, "Perhaps he wants to take another bullet for me…"

There was a momentary silence necessary to ignore what had just been said and pick a new topic.

"Was anything else interesting found during the investigation?"

She paused to recollect all information of importance that couldn't be successfully kept to herself. She retained one piece, one strange occurrence that she could still not quite think of what to make with.

"The defense attorney for Quercus Alba's trial disappeared at the same time as him, during the escape. It seems no one has heard or seen from him since then."

The words sounded oddly creepy upon their saying, causing her to wonder once again the real meaning of the event.

"Do you think that he might be involved with the smuggling ring in some way?"

"I suppose that's possible. The ring has planted people in all sorts of situations before…" she trailed off, imagining what consequences would result if any more of such criminals were planted throughout the investigation.

"Then perhaps Interpol should investigate him."

She didn't respond, still thinking of the liars and backstabbers that might surround them. As unbelievable as it might have sounded, every time she looked back into that mirror, she knew it was true.

The ring was everywhere. And it never gave up.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter title: A Nice, Kindhearted Idiot.

Thank you to Indochine Ramera for the review. To the rest of you (who may or may not exist), please review!

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters.

* * *

Unexpectedly, the rest of the hour-long drive passed without serious event, and she felt no overwhelming sense of relief when she turned into the driveway of the Bureau. There was a heavy sprinkling of cars in the parking lot, and she could also see a great number of vehicles a few blocks away, in the parking lot of the courthouse. The damage didn't appear too horrible from this perspective, actually. It was as though it had never happened, if you ignored the crime scene tape surrounding the side of the building. But just the sight of that brought back memories of the shattering glass, the screams, the gunshots.

The gunshots. She'd had to cover her ears to stop the sound from reminding her of…of what had happened a year before. For some reason, that day was still sealed perfectly into her mind. It wasn't as though she thought of it constantly, but when it was brought up, she couldn't help but remember traces of the fear. A fear that, in its pure form, would paralyze her.

She was relieved she hadn't been shot again. If she had been-

"Franziska, could you please listen to me?"

At the hearing of words, she snapped from her brief daze.

"What is it?" she asked, harsh tone returning.

"Should we ask the officers to move Ms. Yew inside?"

She had forgotten for a moment that she'd been transporting the criminal from the airport- without even real knowledge of why. And she refused to remain in the investigation so terribly uninformed. She was going to demand answers for this, from the person she knew had them. Why hadn't he told her?

"Yes, do that. I need to make an inquiry."

She exited the van and slammed the door before he could make any comment, and proceeded in the direction of the main building. There were several officers wandering about without purpose, and though she could have told them their help was being requested, she didn't particularly want to. It was no longer her problem, and she didn't see why she should take care of it. She would be alone in this investigation, whether Miles Edgeworth liked it or not.

Inside, she stomped past the receptionist who eyed her uncaringly, and down the hallway. There was a section that seemed to be devoted to 'current investigations', and housed a room with a few Interpol agents sitting at computers, either writing reports or playing Minesweeper- it was unclear. There were a few small temporary offices whose doors lined the side of the room, and she directed herself toward the one belonging to a certain someone who had explaining to do. She knocked impatiently, and hearing no audible response, opened the door with more force than necessary.

"You're back already?" Agent Lang said, glancing up from some illegible paperwork. She gritted her teeth in an attempt to remain calm. It didn't seem to be helping.

"Agent Lang…I would be very happy if you could explain something to me…" she began, barely opening her mouth and not raising her voice above its quiet tone.

"What is it, sis?" He didn't seem at all concerned.

"Why did you send me to the airport without telling me what I was actually doing? Specifically, that I would be meeting Calisto Yew there?"

She watched his expression turn from a grin to sort of dark expression she hadn't seen on him often. Perhaps during their confrontation of Quercus Alba, or when he'd discovered in the first place who his assistant was. It was an unnatural look, not quite suited to him. She wondered what had caused the sudden change, and decided it was likely the mentioning of Shih-na.

"I didn't want to tell the other agents because I don't know…if I can trust them. I guess it's alright to tell the main agents on the case now, but I thought they wouldn't go along with what I decided."

She had always thought of Agent Lang as someone who would easily put his trust into people, who could convince others to his point of view without hesitation, who could…do something like this far more directly than he had. She supposed the betrayal really was affecting him, and now the case.

"And why did you make the decision to bring her here?"

He paused slightly. "I knew the ring must've had a plan to get back Quercus Alba, and that they were planning something else for the future too. And, the only way Interpol could get an advantage was to find someone who would have inside knowledge, and would have to give it to us. And…" he trailed off.

"And you assumed that Shih-na would? So you arranged for her to come here?"

He nodded. "Yeah…I guess I'll have to talk to her and try to get information."

She observed that he didn't seem to be particularly thrilled about said prospect. Was he afraid he would have to discuss what had happened a week before? With the incident that had caused him to be shot, and the certain circumstances that surrounded it that made the event so strange. It was still somewhat of a mystery to her, why he'd done it, and the only possibility she could think of was that he had such a strong since of chivalry that he would sacrifice his safety to save his assistant.

Perhaps that would have made more sense normally, but then, he had already known that his assistant was a complete traitor and criminal. And him taking a bullet for Shih-na after finding that out…made no sense at all.

But it wasn't quite any of her business to press the issue, as much as she would have liked to know. After all, sometimes people did incredibly foolish things that though they regretted them instantly, could not have been stopped. And since he seemed to be acting strangely whenever the subject was brought up, she decided to stop giving him grief over his stupid decision, and let him try to forget about it. That was what she would have wanted to do, had she been in such a situation.

"I suppose that it's alright then…though I would appreciate it if you would tell me your plans beforehand. But to change the subject, has any interesting information been found?"

"Not really. We found some parking violations on the street and some minor vandalism on a nearby building…and someone left their car in the courthouse parking lot for a few days, but nothing related to the case." Agent Lang glanced back to his papers again.

"They haven't found any clues in the courthouse itself? Any sort of indicting evidence?"

"No, not yet," he paused, "How about you? Did you think of anything?"

She thought instantly of the conclusion she reached during the return ride. Well, maybe it hadn't been her idea exactly, but she didn't feel any particular aversion to selling it as her own. If it was correct, she would get the credit- and the credit was what mattered. That, and punishing the law-breakers of the ring.

"Yes. I believe there's a possibility that Defense Attorney Jacob Baikal was connected to the ring in some way, and that he used this to plan Quercus Alba's escape, then left with him to avoid being discovered."  
Lang seemed to pause and think of that for a while, then grinned.

"Yeah, I can see that happening. Or maybe he thought we'd see him as a missing person, instead of someone working for the ring."

"I suppose that could be true as well," she said, relieved to not be completely gunned down at her first statement. "I'll inform the other Interpol agents that we need to begin investigating Jacob Baikal."

Lang nodded. "Yeah, and then it'd be great if you could go over the information with Mr. Edgeworth and start your investigation."

She gritted her teeth and fought the urge to scream that she absolutely refused to have to work with him again. He was supposed to have been her subordinate the previous time, and then he'd gone and taken over her case…

But she supposed a request was a request.

"Alright. Keep me informed, Agent Lang."

She turned toward the door, but he began to speak again.

"Hey, sis?" he paused, waiting for her response.

"What is it?"

"Thanks for understanding."

She nodded slightly and left the room without another word, glad to at least have an explanation and a plan for the future. Perhaps this wouldn't be so bad after all.

* * *

She passed by the agents at the computers after her exit of the office (it appeared they were playing solitaire and not Minesweeper) and moved toward the door. She would need to locate the other important officers of the case to inform them of the current strategy, though where to find them was a complete mystery. In addition, she supposed she would eventually have to find Miles Edgeworth and ascertain if Shih-na had been successfully deposited in a holding cell. But that was low priority. Certainly a request was a request, but that didn't mean an undesired request was an important one.

The door opened before she could reach for the handle, and the two agents she was looking for entered, an amazing display of good timing. She remembered from the previous day that their names were Cyan and Caspian, or the like. Strange names- a color and a sea- though perhaps she wasn't one to talk. They both stood in the doorway, blinking at her.

"Excuse me," she began, "I believe we met yesterday? I am Franziska von Karma, the main investigator on this case."

Alright, so perhaps that title was reserved for Agent Lang, but who was there to verify?

Caspian smiled vaguely. "Yes, I believe we did. Are you here for our reports?"

She nodded, and Caspian walked towards a desk. Cyan stayed, completely silent and motionless, eyes locked in a stare- not seeming like a particularly friendly person, but it was still unclear.

"Was anything of interest found?" she asked when Caspian returned.

He handed her a small stack of papers. "No, I'm afraid not. We've questioned everyone in the courthouse at the time."

"Except you," Cyan quickly interrupted. It seemed a wonder that she could actually speak.

"I am in charge of this case, Agent Cyan, so I believe that if I had seen anything important, I would have told you."

"Yes, and we understand that, Miss von Karma," Caspian said, "We also have asked the city police department for any information they might have gathered on the ring, and they have nothing."

"And have you found any possible headquarters for the ring?" she questioned, still holding out some hope.

"No. All we've found are buildings that cannot be disturbed- most are owned by minor corporate entities."

"I see. That's unfortunate."

There was a momentary silence in which neither of the agents chimed in with positive news. She supposed it wasn't exactly unexpected- Agent Lang had told her nothing had been found as well. But it gave her little information to rely on.

"Did _you_ find anything, Miss von Karma?" Cyan questioned in a reproachful tone. Perhaps confirming the theory that she wasn't a very friendly person.

"Yes," she countered with identical reproachfullness, "I have decided on a new point of investigation."

"And what is that?"

"Defense Attorney Jacob Baikal. He disappeared during the escape, and I believe he may be connected to the smuggling ring. As he is a missing person, it should be easy to obtain access to his property."

Caspian smiled. "That sounds promising, Miss von Karma. We'll get right on that."

"If we have time," Cyan added.

The two continued into the room and disappeared into separate offices before she could say anything more. She felt as though she had just been interrogated in the form of 'good cop-bad cop'. It was extremely irritating. Certainly, Caspian seemed nice enough, but Cyan's attitude just disturbed her. Who had given her the right to treat others with such disrespect?

She regressed to the hallway and was in the midst of walking through it when a door unexpectedly opened in front of her. The person she had been assigned to look for exited. It was unfortunate- she'd been hoping to not encounter them and be 'sadly' forced to work by herself.

"Franziska."

She stopped and blinked at him for a moment, as though hoping her silence would end the conversation. In actuality, she simply had no particular ideas of what to say, though it might as well have been the same thing. He blinked back at her.

"I've spoken to the officers, and they've found a holding location for Ms. Yew."

"That's nice," she spoke, without real interest.

"Did you speak with Agent Lang?" he asked, abruptly changing the subject. Of course, he had realized exactly what her 'inquiry' was meant to be.

"Yes. We've been assigned to continue the investigation, with a new focus on Jacob Baikal."

He shook his head. "Actually, I was referring to if you had learned his motive for bringing Ms. Yew here, and the need for the secrecy."

"He believes she will have to provide us with information about the smuggling ring. And…he also believed he could not trust such a large group of agents, and believed that the leaders of the case might reject his decision, which is why no one was told."

She watched as Miles seemed to think of this for a moment.

"That is understandable…I certainly would not trust those around me if that sort of betrayal had occurred…"

"…And neither would I," she said, knowing she already had problems with trust, "To change the topic, I have informed Agents Caspian and Cyan of the plan, and I believe they are currently gaining permission to investigate Jacob Baikal's vehicle and residence."

"I see. In the mean time, is there any information already collected regarding him?"

She paused, reviewing what had occurred the previous day in an effort to remember anything of that nature. If this was any sort of information regarding him, she supposed there was something in her possession.

"His trial notes were given to me for safe keeping."

He nodded. "In that case, we can review those to see if there is any inside information into the ring."

"I suppose."

She turned then, without further explanation, and began to walk briskly in the direction of the evidence locker room, wondering slightly if he wouldn't follow (though of course, he did). It consisted of two rooms, actually- one that contained a guard to ascertain that those who went in were not simply random strangers from off the street, and the second room that contained the storage spaces. It was quite similar to the evidence room at the police department in America, without the mysterious paint stains she'd noticed on the floor upon her visit. She had no doubts it had been that scruffy detective who had caused those, though she couldn't imagine what foolish thing he'd been doing.

The lockers inside were not very large, and so there were a great many. One section contained the lockers of all the detectives who consistently worked for the Allebahstian Bureau, and the other section was a selection of non-permanent lockers, with paper tags taped messily to them. Her name was spelled incorrectly. Unforgiveable, yes, but it was unclear who had attached them and so she had no one upon which to exact her wrath.

The remaining non-permanent lockers contained the names of various agents working on the case, as well as officials from the court, such as the judge of this particular case. She also observed quite a number of lockers that simply read '1'. It was a very odd system- how would each particular '1' differentiate their locker from the others?

"Before you foolishly ask- no, you do not have an evidence locker."

She glanced over to see him smiling again.

"Actually, it appears I do. The administration must have been informed of my arrival."

Her eyes narrowed as she spotted the tag, even more messily written than the others.

"They've forgotten an 'e'," she pointed out.

"Is that so, Fran_cesca?_"

She ignored the comment on her misspelled name and returned to entering her pass code. It was a selection of four digits, thus making it difficult for any break-ins to occur. And, considering the non-permanence of the lockers, it was much better than having a fingerprint system. She entered the code and opened the locker.

And stopped. She looked back and checked the not-quite-correct, though very close name on the front, and reminded herself that just yesterday, she had put all of the documents she'd received regarding the investigation, as well as all of her trial notes, and the notes of the defense. She had put them there, she was absolutely certain of it.

And now they were gone.

Her locker was empty, and all of her important information had been _stolen._

* * *

_Prosecutors. They were all alike._

_He exited the defendant lobby, blood burning with the anger of generations. Prosecutors had taken his family's honor. They were nothing but a bunch of evidence forging, lying backstabbers. He hated them all. So much so that he refused completely to assist with the investigation. He didn't care what the people in the room thought he was- they would lose in the end. He was going to expose every dirty dead ever done by any prosecutor. They were no match for him._

_And why was the investigation being left up to prosecutors anyway? Certainly Interpol could handle it. Even the normal police could handle it. No, instead they were letting some ridiculously dressed newbie and a silly little girl with a riding crop run the investigation. He refused to believe this._

_Of course, it wasn't as though he was a complete expert on this case either- he'd only been sent in to make sure things ran smoothly, and as training for the future- but still. Even if he had only just joined Interpol, he was far more qualified than them. In fact, he'd already picked up most of the important details of the case just by listen-_

"_Watch where you're going," snapped the person he'd just collided with. He flashed back to attention and glanced at the stranger, wondering who exactly they were to snap at him._

_She looked near his age, with sharp eyes and a badge pinned to her collar. Another prosecutor? No, it appeared to be a defense attorney's badge, if he wasn't mistaken. He didn't particularly care for defense attorneys either- in fact, the entire courtroom system was horribly flawed. But he did wonder who she was and why she was here. _

"_Who are you?" he asked, instead of offering an apology._

_She laughed at his bluntness. "It's not really any of your business, Mr. Low-rank Guard, though the fact that you would ask me that is intriguing. But it's rude to demand someone's name without giving your own."_

_Had she just called him a 'low-rank guard'? Oh well, he supposed it couldn't hurt to humor her insult-sounding question._

"_I'm Shi-Long Lang, and I'm an agent for Interpol, not a guard. And I'll ask again: who are you?"_

_She laughed again- or perhaps the correct word was 'scoffed'. Why was she laughing? There had been nothing remotely funny about his statement. When she ceased, she pulled out a mirror and began to adjust her makeup. As though that was far more important than answering. He couldn't even think of a word to describe how impolite that was._

"_Fine. You win, __**Agent **__Lang. My name is Calisto Yew. I was the defense for a trial here, but it looks as though that trial isn't going to happen." 'Calisto Yew' flicked the mirror shut and stared back at him coldly._

"_Mack Rell's trial?"_

_She reached for the makeup again. "Yes, that's the one. Well, it seems you really are informed."_

"_Yeah. I am. Don't underestimate me. Or Interpol."_

_And Calisto Yew burst into laughter again. What was her __**problem**__?_

"_Heh…I won't," she said, with complete sarcasm, "Well, I have more important things to do now. Go do your so-called job."_

_She marched off down the hallway then, before he could even think of a comeback and have the last word. His blood was burning again. How could anyone act like that to someone they'd just met? She was __**far **__more rude than he'd ever been, even to that stupid prosecutor he'd met before. She could beat him at his own game._

_All he knew was this: he __**never **__wanted to see that woman again._

* * *

But he had. He had seen her a zillion times since that day, and somehow it had never crossed his mind that she was suspicious. Not at all. He hadn't ever even questioned her lack of a last name, or the absence of any explanation of her past. He had just assumed she probably didn't want to talk about it, and he had…let her…earn his trust.

And then she had betrayed him so horribly. Thinking back on the day he'd met Calisto Yew, he could see now what kind of person she really was.

But why couldn't he accept it? Why couldn't he just realize what a terrible person she was and stop thinking about everything that had happened? Why was he such…such the exact word she had used to describe him-an idiot?

What had he been thinking when he'd seen the gun fire, when he'd thrown himself in the way, and possibly saved her life?

He knew. Deep down, he remembered perfectly clearly what had happened. It just made no sense at all to him. He had spent the last week trying to forget it completely. After all, everyone else had moved on. They had even solved the case of who was the head of the smuggling ring. That was all he should have cared about…wasn't it?

It was interesting that he'd thought of that memory now. That if he thought about it, seven years had changed everything infinitesimally, but yet here he was now, with exactly the same people. Now he was working with the 'ridiculously dressed newbie' and the 'silly little girl with a riding crop'. They had turned out to be…different people than he would have expected. And in a way, so had Calisto Yew. Or Shih-na. Or whatever her name truly was- not that it even mattered.

All that mattered was that she was a criminal who had betrayed him. And now he was going to see her again, but this time with an entire world separating them. He had trouble believing that two weeks before, it had been like any other investigation- and he hadn't suspected a thing. It was all so clear now- if only he could have done the impossible and somehow warned his previous self…though, knowing himself, he would have probably ignored his own advice. After all, he had managed perfectly well to ignore the fact of who Shih-na was, and had proceeded to take a bullet for her. He didn't listen very well. And he trusted others far too easily.

He was in a hallway now, having been informed that his former assistant had been placed in an interrogation cell, and that if he wished to speak to her, he need only go to the correct room. He was going to talk to her; to somehow overcome his worries that he could never stay cool and informal in such a situation, and then convince her to reveal all the secrets of the smuggling ring. Yes, this plan was destined to be _completely _successful.

He would have left it up to some experienced interrogator, but for some reason, he absolutely couldn't. He needed to do this for himself. He needed to have the last word. He had missed his chance before, when escorting her to the police, and now he wanted to have it. And besides, he knew her far better than any other agent.

No…that was wrong. But he didn't want to admit it.

He arrived at a small room in the corridor, with the correct label on the door, and opened it quietly. It was set up almost like an interrogation room, with plate glass one-way mirrors on a side. He didn't even glance at them- he was waiting to really see the inside of the room, and be inside it himself. Because it was an entirely different thing to look on from the outside than it was to live for yourself on the inside.

There was a table in the middle of the room, and he took a seat on one end and faced her. She smiled at him- perhaps nicely to a casual observer, but there was some sort of sting to the expression. He wasn't overreacting, either.

"How are you, Agent Lang?" she asked, inappropriately cheerful.

He didn't respond, and stared at the metal of the table instead. It was difficult for some reason to look at her. He also had begun to see her features slowly shift to those of Calisto Yew. He wished he hadn't dredged up that memory.

She spoke again without waiting for his response.

"Tell me, does your leg still hurt from that…injury you sustained? Thank you for that, by the way. On occasion it is nice to have a boss so terribly blinded by stupidity…"

"Haven't you insulted me enough, Shih-na?"

She didn't seem to be listening. "Hmm…now that I think of it though, I'd already been revealed, so perhaps it was less stupidity and more…something _else._"

He didn't speak. He couldn't think of any response to that.

"I will presume that that is a 'yes', Agent Lang. Very interesting. So, any particular reason you came to visit me in my current state? Are you lonely without an assistant?"

"You're going to give us information about the smuggling ring, Shih-na. And you should be glad it's me, and not a _real _interrogator."

She giggled. He grimaced.

"Really? If I remember correctly, you were under no one's orders to bring me here…and you didn't even speak about it to the other investigators. It doesn't quite sound as though you are working for any particular team other than your own…"

"It doesn't matter. You're going to tell us what you know."

Without looking up, he heard the sound of her smiling. This conversation was a battle, and he was losing so poorly it didn't even appear to be a fight.

"Oh, no thank you. I would rather torment you."

He normally would have broken by now and begun some sort of serious 'bad cop' routine, but he couldn't. Not at all. Perhaps it had been a bad idea after all to go in himself. But why couldn't he be the same sort of leader he was out in the field? He could command a 'pack' of ninety-nine men who would do whatever he asked- why couldn't he just have a simple conversation?

"You seem pretty confident for someone in your situation," was all he could manage to say.

"Of course. I am in a stellar situation. And it is all thanks to you." She didn't show any hint of sarcasm- not a trace. She wasn't joking. She was completely serious.

"What are you talking about, Shih-na?"

She laughed. "You really are an idiot, Agent Lang, or perhaps simply very naïve and innocent. How did you not realize what you were doing when you brought me to this country? You made it _far _easier for certain events to transpire."

What did she mean by that?

"Explain."

"It is like this…there had been a plan set in advance in case of Quercus Alba's arrest, and following that plan, the ring was able to reclaim him, correct?"

He felt a chill creep through him, freezing him where he was.

"What are you saying?"

Shih-na smiled. "What I am saying is this: as there was a plan for Mr. Alba, there also exists such a plan for me."

"Then-"

She interrupted before he could react.

"Simply put, Agent Lang…I am next."


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4- Unexpected Help from an Unknown Source

Thank you to Indochine Ramera for the review(s), and to others reading the story- your reviews are always appreciated.

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, nor the word 'magic', which I managed to use four times in this chapter for no apparent reason.

* * *

"What!"

She stared at the inside of the empty locker, unable to formulate any words for the amount of shock she was experiencing. How could her evidence, her very important evidence, simply vanish? Or more importantly, how could whatever thief who had stolen them have gotten into the locker?

"Is something wrong, Franziska?"

She gripped the metal safe door tightly enough to bend it, and attempted to refrain from going on a blind rampage of destruction. She would have to find out who had done this, and how they had done it first.

"…Someone has stolen the evidence," she muttered, as calmly as possible- which was not very calm at all.

"Stolen?" Miles asked, walking over to see the absence of said evidence.

"Well, it is no longer here, and I can only take that to mean someone has deliberately taken it…" She wished she could blame him for it. That would be so simple.

"Are you certain you didn't take it out yourself and place it elsewhere?"

"I would have remembered that, Miles Edgeworth! I am absolutely certain it was stolen!" Perhaps he was simply trying to be helpful, but somehow she didn't believe it at all. She couldn't help but imagine him laughing inside.

"Calm down," he said, seemingly unfazed by the rise in volume, "We can ask the guard outside."

With that, he turned and walked for the door. She closed the empty locker and followed him grudgingly. Why did he have to always be so calm, always think things through logically, even in the worst situation? And how exactly did he expect her to do the same?

They approached the man in the front room, who sat at the desk practically twiddling his thumbs, and extremely bored expression on his face.

"Excuse me," Miles asked, before she could begin screaming, "Some evidence that was being stored in one of the lockers has vanished."

"Oh, like magic or something!" the man said, sounding completely serious.

"No, we believe more along the lines of theft."

"So like, a magic thief!"

She slammed her hands down onto the desk, unable to tolerate this ridiculous conversation anymore. She did not have patience for this sort of thing, and did not believe that anyone should.

"No. A real person, not endowed with any foolish magical powers, broke into a locker and stole important evidence for a case. I would like to know exactly who this person was, and how they could have done it."

The guard seemed surprised. "Without any magic? That sounds pretty hard. Those lockers have keypads, you know…"

"Yes. I am aware. But I need to know who has access to the codes which open the lockers." Her usual fear-striking technique did not seem to be working on this fool.

"Oh, we keep the codes in some secret computer file. And for the temporary lockers…well, we're supposed to change them for every new person that has the locker, but were pretty lazy about that. So the codes stay the same. But still, there's no way anyone could guess a code or look it up. Are you _sure _they didn't use magic?"

She was just about to strangle the guard, when Miles spoke again. Why did he have to interrupt her exacting of rightfully-deserved punishment? This day continued to be not fair.

"Alright, could we see the records of who has entered the room recently, in the case that they were the thief?"

The fool stared blankly at them. "I don't write anyone down, and I couldn't possibly memorize all their names…gosh, to do that, you would have to be-"

She cut him off before he could say that word yet again. "Well, thank you very much for wasting our time. Goodbye."

And then she stomped out of the room and back into the hallway.

* * *

"You didn't need to be so rude, Franziska…"

Miles had followed her (as usual) and was now struggling to keep up as she marched down the hallway at breakneck speed.

"That man was a foolish fool! Did you hear him! He suggested the thief used magic! Does Allebahst hire any remotely intelligent humans to work for them!" She stopped her march in order to more thoroughly complain.

He smiled slightly. "Yes, I agree…that guard was a bit odd. But you should still be nicer, Franziska."

She really wished he would stop tacking her name to the end of his sentences. It made it sound like he was mocking her- trying to show some kind of false concern. She hated it.

"Whatever. I'll return later to look for traces of the criminal. In the mean time, I'm beginning today's investigation. You're welcome to do something else."

He sighed. "I see we're off to a bad start already."

She ignored him and marched on toward the truth behind the smuggling ring. She was going to figure it out, with or without help. Preferably without.

* * *

She walked the few blocks to the courthouse. It was a day with nice enough weather, at least, though she honestly would have expected some dark, sinister cloud to be hanging in the sky. It would certainly fit the theme- the leader of the smuggling ring having had escaped, and it becoming clear that said leader's missing defense attorney was probably a criminal as well. And now, important information from her locker had been stolen, and it appeared it would be her responsibility to uncover the truth of who the thief was.

She knew it couldn't be a known member of the ring- as foolish as the guard at the desk had been, she doubted a criminal could have worked their way through the system and managed to find her locker and break in. It would have to be someone else entirely- who though, she couldn't think of at all. There were only two people that she really knew that were a part of the investigation. Agent Lang would never have done something like that, nor did he have a motive. And she could not think of any possible time Miles Edgeworth would have had to steal something, seeing as he had had no knowledge of the room's existence beforehand. And then, of course, she did not want to blindly accuse Interpol agents, especially with no real proof. She needed to investigate it more. Perhaps this entire matter could be just a misconception, and the taking of her items a mistake.

But she highly doubted it.

She arrived at the courthouse parking lot, to see that the area surrounding one car was already marked off with yellow crime scene tape. On approachment, she noticed the several officers surrounding said car, either speaking into cell phones or writing on clipboards. She recognized the group as some of Agent Lang's number 1's. Perhaps they might have some idea of who could have taken her evidence, though that could be asked later. It looked as though they were actually doing work, as opposed to the police from the American division. Though she probably should have suspected as much- they did work for Interpol, and they were Lang's agents.

She knew Miles was still following her quite stalkerishly, and supposed that she would ask a few questions about the car while he caught up.

"Excuse me," she spoke to the nearest number 1, who was writing on a clipboard, "Why exactly is this area marked off?"

The man gasped. "Oh! Miss von Karma! We were told you needed everything relating to Jacob Baikal investigated as quickly as possible and we should report everything to you and-"

"Are you saying that this is his car?" It surprised her that the number 1 had recognized her instantly, and that he seemed to be addressing her with a real sense of nervousness. Certainly, she was a leader of the case, but she hadn't expected to be well known among the hoards of Interpol agents. She wondered if Agent Lang had had a word with them.

Actually, she was also surprised how quickly they had begun to investigate after she had given the order. It appeared the two agents she'd asked had had time after all.

"Yes it is, ma'am! We're investigating it!"

"I see. Have you found anything unusual yet?"

He checked his clipboard. "Actually…we were waiting for you and Agents Caspian and Cyan to come…but we did find out that he left his doors unlocked or something! We didn't have to break any of the locks…"

"Interesting. And I presume Agent Lang won't be coming?"

The number one looked down. "No, I'm afraid not, ma'am. He said he had something to do. Actually…Shifu has been acting sort of strange for the past week. He totally forgot about my sister's husband's brother's birthday…"

She wondered vaguely how it would even be possible to remember such a thing, but didn't interrupt.

"…and actually…I heard this rumor. Miss von Karma, is it alright if I ask you something?"

"Is it going to compromise the investigation in some way?" she asked, skeptical.

"No, ma'am. I was just wondering…I heard that Shifu asked for Ms. Shih-na to come here…is that true?"

She thought for a moment, then decided it would probably be better to say the truth now than to let rumors build and circulate.

"Yes, it is. It's for the purpose of the investigation. Is there some problem?"

"No, Miss von Karma. I was um…just wondering. I know it's none of my business, but I'm sort of worried for Shifu…if our group loses him, we'll be um…leaderless!"

The thought of a group of ninety-nine wandering around with no real direction crossed her mind, and seemed like a very bad idea. But it was a mystery to her how Agent Lang might randomly disappear in the middle of the investigation.

"I don't think that that is a valid concern."

"Yes ma'am…" the number one nodded and glanced around, "Oh! Agents Caspian and Cyan are here! And…who is that man? He looks familiar…"

She looked to ascertain that it was who she'd thought. "He helped with the previous investigation of the smuggling ring."

"And I plan to help again, Franziska…whether you want me to or not."

She blinked at Miles for a moment, then turned her attention back to the arrival of Cyan and Caspian, who had parked a van and were now approaching the scene. She could see the look of subtle annoyance on Cyan's face, and ignored it. Jacob Baikal was going to be investigated regardless of anyone else's opinion.

"Hello, Miss von Karma," Caspian said at the site, face completely devoid of emotion, "I apologize for the wait. I needed to speak to the chief of police to obtain permission to search this car."

"That's…alright, I suppose…"

Cyan had already brushed passed her and into the yellow tape area with what seemed to be the purpose of opening the door. Was the investigation moving too slowly? Why couldn't this agent wait until the search had officially begun?

But she followed suit anyway, and was on the verge of opening a door when Cyan interrupted.

"Found something."

That had been quick. Extremely quick.

She glanced at it. Not very surprisingly, it was a small art sculpture- some kind of abstract shape modeled with artists' clay and painted varying shades of blue. And rather obviously, a famous piece of artwork. It appeared her theory had been correct after all. Well, perhaps not her theory, but…she would get credit for it.

"I'd say that this is likely a real piece of artwork swapped with a forgery by the smuggling ring. Wouldn't you agree,-"

She cut Miles off. "It is. It appears I was right." She turned to a few nearby number 1's, "Could you continue searching the car for other artwork? I'm sure there will be quite a few delighted museums…"

She turned and walked from the taped area to observe the work from outside. It had been unfortunate that Cyan had found the evidence before she had, but as long as it proved her newly claimed point, it was alright. And the idea that Lang's army would obey her as well was quite reassuring. And Miles Edgeworth hadn't even interfered as much as she'd expected. Perhaps this would not be so terrible after all, working with others- if only they allowed her to work alone and simply stayed in the background.

"Franziska," Miles said suddenly. She looked to see him standing beside her. "…We need to talk."

And perhaps it would be that terrible after all.

"About what?"

He regarded her with a look of complete seriousness. "I would prefer if it was out of earshot from the other agents."

She grudgingly nodded and followed him a little ways away into the center of the parking lot. What exactly was he planning to tell her? That he had suddenly discovered he had some life-threatening illness in the last five minutes and his dying wish was to solve the case? Or was it different? Perhaps he was warning her of something. It wasn't that she needed his warnings, but it would have been nice to know if she was being stalked by some psychopathic killer.

"I will ask again, Miles Edgeworth: what exactly is it you need to talk about?"

He stared at her for a moment, then spoke emotionlessly. "I need you to act like an adult. This is getting ridiculous."

"What exactly do you mean by that?" she questioned annoyedly.

"You need to stop treating this investigation like it's some sort of competition, and actually work together with the other agents. And with me."

"That-"

"Franziska, I don't understand at all why you feel the need to solve this by yourself. It makes no logical sense, not when it would be much easier to allow others to help you."

She remembered vaguely the previous time he had tried to 'talk sense into her', and that it had not turned out very well. But she was not going to allow his speech to affect her.

"Whatever. This is my investigation, and I am going to deal with it as I see fit."

About to turn and walk away, she noticed he had begun to glare at her.

"Listen to me," he said slowly, as though talking to a young child, "If you continue to 'deal' with the investigation in this way, no one is going to continue working with you. And when you encounter problems with which you need outside help, there won't be anyone to help you. Do you understand?"

Was he right?

No, no…he couldn't be right. But still, she did see the vague outlines of a point to the words. So…perhaps he was slightly not wrong…but not right. There was no way she allow him to be correct.

"Alright, fine," she said, giving up completely, but with a tone of annoyance- as she hadn't actually agreed.

But she could tell instantly- he could see through such a thin façade, and continued to glare. What exactly was he waiting for? Some sort of signed agreement that said she would willingly allow him to participate in the investigation? That she would not jump at every chance to receive credit for the actions of others?

She spoke then, randomly, and without thought. "It's not fair."

His expression didn't change. "What is not, exactly?"

Still with no real knowledge of what was being said, she continued to speak. "You…had your chance to defeat Quercus Alba. You were able to bring him the punishment he deserved. And then when I tried to…I didn't get the opportunity. So that isn't fair, Miles Edgeworth. This investigation is my only chance."

The glare subsided, and his expression returned to that of a blank slate.

"You will get the chance again, Franziska. We are going to catch him, and he will have to stand trial again. It isn't as though you've lost the opportunity. So you should allow others to help with the investigation- it will make it far easier to find and capture him. Which is the most beneficial for you, wouldn't you agree?"

She knew she shouldn't have spoken- now she had really lost the argument. The only option was to admit defeat.

"Fine."

They stood in silence for a moment, and she avoided eye contact by scanning the parking lot. There were a few number 1's who ran back and forth from the courthouse to the car, two carrying small evidence bags that likely contained pieces of artwork. There was still a search being down of said car, though it appeared to have discovered no more earth-shattering information. A few Allebahstian police officers drifted around the scene, though never entering the tape. It was probably quite strange to them to have so many Interpol agents running all around the city. Actually, they probably hadn't dealt with a case as high profile as this.

There were a few other vehicles in the parking lot- several Interpol vans, a few motorcycles, and some regular looking cars. Her eyes were drawn instantly to slightly old-looking silver one, without tinted windows, and with quite a bit of room in the interior. There was something that almost seemed familiar about it, as though she had seen it before.

She had. Of course she had. And more surprising, she had seen it on that night.

Without any explanation, she took off across the parking lot to the car, about forty feet away. There was no one inside, nothing interesting really visible in the interior, and no tags or registration that might point to whose car it was. No information at all- she would have to rely on what she remembered from before, from the time that she had seen this. It had been too suspicious, though she hadn't thought anything of it at the time.

_She exited through the main doors of the courthouse, instantly crossing the borderline between the slightly warm interior to the rather cold, crisp, outside atmosphere. It had been far too long- it was nearly midnight, and she would be here, in this same location, approximately nine hours later. For the trial. Her opportunity to exact her rightful punishment on Quercus Alba…to prove that she could do just as well, if not __**better, **__than a certain other prosecutor. It was near impossible to wait. She had stayed here, seeing it as an easier place to attempt concentration than her hotel room. She had finished the court notes, previewed the information she had compiled on those testifying, the judge, and the defense attorney. Ready or not, Quercus Alba was going down. For the second time, actually…though she didn't think of that as counting._

_Seeing as it was midnight, those who generally ran the courthouse had all gone home, and it was still a few hours before the janitorial staff was to arrive. She had stayed too late, she knew, but the feeling of being __**this**__ ready made up for it. And it wasn't as though staying late was not allowed- the door locked behind her as she exited, and could only be opened by court officials native to Allebahst, who would have some sort of key pass. Not her- though she did not mind at all. The trial would end in a day, and she might return to the opportunity to investigate for Interpol that she'd been offered. She didn't intend to stay in this country- there was no reason._

_Approaching her car, she observed that there was still another left in the lot. It was positioned exactly next to hers, and with a glance over, a dark shadow could be seen in the driver's seat. She supposed whoever it was had parked and then fallen asleep. She pitied them- awakening in the dark in a less than familiar place- but it wasn't as though she cared enough to do something about it. _

_She let her eyes graze over the rest of the car, observing several crates placed in the back seats. Said containers seemed to house several complicated electronic devices, possibly broken. Thin wires spilled from the crates onto the seats of the cars, kept only in place by small boxes, strangely marked, and with small clips on the sides. She wondered what it might have been- parts from a computer? Was the shadow in the driver's seat some sort of technology aficionado, dissecting electronics and rebuilding them? A strange job for someone asleep in a courthouse parking lot._

_But she knew she needed to return to the hotel in search of rest- there was no time to speculate on what the wired boxes were or why this stranger choose this particular location to fall completely asleep. She removed the loaned Interpol van from its parking spot, and navigated toward the main street. As she turned onto the street and began to drive, she happened to glance in the rearview mirror._

_A few parked cars had suddenly come alive, as though she was delusioning strange ghosts. They moved in silence into the courthouse parking lot and choose from the nearly endless selection of spaces. She paused for a moment, wondering if it was her duty to see what it was that those driving the cars were planning to do. _

_And she elected to ignore it. Probably only drunken college students looking for a place to stage their midnight party. She didn't care- she was entirely above them. (Ignoring the fact that they were her age or older.)_

_So she kept driving- farther and farther away into the dark night, oblivious to what happened in her absence._

* * *

"Then what you're saying is this- the smuggling ring planted the explosives at the midnight before the trial, and waited for you to leave the courthouse before doing so…"

"Exactly."

She had returned to the Bureau, more specifically to the hallway leading to the evidence room. Walking down it now, she was giving the information she remembered to construct a situation she had almost been witness to. There had been little that could be done at the parking lot- the suspicious car could not be investigated unless it was under real suspicion, and they were unable to acquire a warrant. There was also no other important information that could be collected from Jacob Baikal's car, and so it was no longer necessary to remain there.

"…Furthermore, there is a vehicle at the courthouse that was used to bring the explosive materials to the scene," Miles continued.

She passed the obviously non-magical guard in front of the evidence room, who appeared to have graduated from twiddling his thumbs to constructing odd handclap routines using his desk. They entered the evidence room and directed toward the correct locker.

"Yes. I suppose if there was a way to gain entry to that car, we would find some very useful information. However, I cannot be completely sure of what I remember."

"It is still highly likely, Franziska. You should inform the agents to pay attention to it and to find the owner."

"I-" she stopped suddenly, on inspection of her locker. The name was still misspelled, and the contents most likely still missing, though she noticed something about it that she had missed before- white powder collected around the edges of each key. It was thin, and disappeared quickly when blown on. And considering it was located on the keypad…

"I've found how my locker was infiltrated," she said, while punching in her code.

"How exactly?"

She finished and opened it. She obviously didn't expect to find her things returned, nor did she have anything new to put in. She simply wanted to see if the thief had left anything behind.

"Fingerprinting powder. That fool outside told us that the codes remain the same- if you had fingerprinting powder, you could find which numbers were selected and simply guess the permutation."

She watched Miles nod slightly, and focused her attention on the inside of the locker, in search of a clue. Instead, she found a notebook.

"I do not believe this," she said, or more accurately, snarled, "Someone has broken into this locker again."

"Franziska, there was nothing left to steal. How could someone have-"

He stopped suddenly, and she knew he was seeing the newly appeared contents of the storage space.

"What is that?"

"Obviously, I did not put it there. How exactly am I to know what it is?" She questioned, snatching up the notebook and flipping through it, "It appears to be some sort of record on the smuggling ring."

She skimmed a page.

_**Based on my extensive investigation, I believe there is another key member of the ring with residence in Allebahst. They have captured Ambassador Quercus Alba, and it is likely that other members are from his country, most likely from the court system. I wonder if they are planning something for his trial?**_

"If we consider this log to be the truth…" Miles began, seemingly reading the page as well, "Could it be that the ring member spoken of is Jacob Baikal?"

Not fair. She had wanted to say that.

"Yes, it would seem that way. Then I suppose…" she hesitated, not quite wanting to say it. If she said it, there would be trouble. It was as though the investigation would suddenly take on a new risk, some sort of mysterious danger.

But she had to say it- the truth needed to be discussed. The case needed to be solved.

"I suppose that the problem with the smuggling ring is greater than originally thought. And, somewhere inside of this investigation, we seem to have both an enemy…and a friend."

* * *

"What?"

Shih-na giggled menacingly. "Did you not hear me, or are you simply surprised? I don't know why you would be…you are the one that made this so much more possible…"

"How can you know that, Shih-na? How can you know they'll come for you?" he exclaimed, still with an incomplete grasp on what she was implying.

"Quite obviously, Agent Lang, I was present when they discussed the plan for all important members' arrests…"

He looked up, managing to stare straight into her eyes. "How can you know they're in Allebahst?"

She smiled and he quickly looked away. Seeing that expression on her face bothered him. In the situation they were now, with her in police custody and facing charges for murder, how could she still be winning? How could she still weaken him with her mocking laughter and not-so-subtle comments on what had transpired the week before? He had no chance of having the last word if this continued.

"The ring has some rather interesting business to do here in Allebahst…it is only natural that they would reclaim captured members, considering how convenient it is. How convenient you've made it."

"What business?" he demanded.

"Oh, I'm afraid I can't tell you any more, it's confidential. However, know this- it will not take the ring long to reclaim me. I will be gone before you can say goodbye. Or…have the last word, as you probably have been wanting to do."

He stood up in flash, fighting the urge to leave the room right then and there. How was she reading his mind? Was it that he was far too obvious? Or that…they'd worked together for such a long time that she knew exactly how he thought…?

Shih-na followed suit- standing up, though not as quickly or angrily. Her handcuffs jingled.

"Did I upset you, Agent Lang?" she asked with sarcasm, "I'm very sorry…" She paced to the door, and through the window he could see a guard waiting to escort her elsewhere. "Now if you'll excuse me, I would like to return to my cell now. It was nice talking to you."

She turned the handle and exited the room, leaving him with nothing but impossible questions and serious concerns.

* * *

"What do you mean 'she has to leave'? Did you just bring her here?" Cyan asked annoyedly, leaning back in the office chair.

"And quite obviously, Agent Cyan, problems could result if she is kept here," von Karma responded with a reproachful tone.

He surveyed the table and noted that the main agents were all here, along with the would-have-been judge of Quercus Alba's trial. A few members of his pack stood, guarding the doorway from intruders. There wouldn't be any- hardly anyone knew this meeting was even taking place- actually, most of them probably still didn't know Shih-na was even here.

He called the meeting to inform the other s of what had transpired during the interrogation (without all of the interrogatee's mocking comments), and simply the things she had warned him of.

"It looks like the ring is doing something here in Allebahst, and they're going to try to get Shih-na back." He informed the group. "If we keep her here, we have to worry about two problems. Lang zi s-"

"You just brought her here this morning," Cyan complained, "Can't you find some other way t-"

"I agree with Agent Lang," Caspian interrupted, "It is very concerning that the smuggling ring would be able to reclaim their lost members, so it would be better for everyone if the members were not there to be taken."

Cyan glared at Caspian and shook her head. "Taking her out of the country might not even help. The ring could just as easily go somewhere else to get their members."

"Yes, but if they are doing something in this country, it is more convenient for them if Ms. Shih-na is here."

He watched the argument in silence, wondering if Cyan was correct- what if the ring _could _get its members back from any country. What if Shih-na was lying to cause chaos? Though, if he thought of it logically, it did make sense that the ring would strike here, and not halfway across the globe.

"I would have to agree with Agent Cyan." It was Judge Wellington. "If we send her somewhere else, we may lose important information she would have eventually given us. If we keep her here, she'll be directly under our protection, and we can continue the interrogation."

"It's still three against two," von Karma snapped, "So it's settled. We will transport Calisto Yew back to America."

There was a silence, and Cyan continued to glare at Caspian. He wondered if that was it- if it was settled this way, he wouldn't be able to fulfill his goal. But on the other hand, did he really want to have another conversation like the one he had had earlier that day? Did he want to think about the wound in his leg anymore, or why he had done what he'd done?

No, of course not. And it was safer to send her away.

"…We can't do that, Franziska."

His eyes flicked across the table to see the prosecutor, who had kept silent until now. He wondered why such a thing couldn't be done, and von Karma asked for him.

"What exactly do you mean, Miles Edgeworth?"

"This morning when we were escorting Ms. Yew from the airport, one of the guards informed us that there was a problem with her passport and she could not leave the country. Do you remember?"

He saw a look of realization on her face.

"Alright, fine. However, we still must address the problem and take precautionary measures against it."

There was another silence-this seemed to be becoming a habit.

"I have a solution."

All eyes went to Judge Wellington.

"There is a maximum security prison located about forty kilometers from here. I can make arrangements with them, and we should be able to take her there tomorrow afternoon. That should be soon enough."

He expected a zillion arguments, but everyone seemed to nod slightly in agreement. Even Cyan and von Karma.

"Good, then it's tomorrow." He said, "We'll need a few agents to help with escort, but otherwise that should be fine."

He supposed all he could do was hope that was the truth- it would be nice to have something work out for a change.

"I have a report to make on the investigation." Von Karma stated, suddenly standing. "We believe defense attorney Jacob Baikal is a part of the smuggling ring, and that he was planted to help Quercus Alba escape. That being said, it is clear the ring has been placing its members in a variety of fields to interfere with Interpol's investigation. So I would like to know this- is anyone in this room affiliated in any way with the smuggling ring, or knows someone that is?"

What an odd question, though it did make him curious. It also made him want to say that yes, he did know someone. It was his former assistant, and he really would have appreciated knowing sooner that she was going to betray him. He did not want to see that happen again, either to himself or someone else.

Everyone shook their heads, the universal gesture of no.

Von Karma returned to her seat with a satisfied expression. "Good. I didn't think so. But if anyone of you is lying, be assured that I will find out, and you will pay."

Of course, Interpol would find out if someone was lying- they always did. The real question was- would it be too late?


	6. Chapter 5

Title of this chapter: The Mole Strikes.

My sincere apologies for the wait- I've been very busy lately. However, I will attempt to continue the regular posting schedule.

Anyway, I wanted to mention that this story may contain elements of implied one-sided Lang/Shih-na, which I didn't state before because I wasn't entirely sure if there would be. Though...I stated specifically that it had no possible pairings, and this would be impossible, so maybe I did state it before. Oh, and as this is impossible, nothing particularly romantic can happen, and it's essentially ignorable.

Thank you to Indochine Ramera for consistent reviewing, and to the rest of you readers who may or may not exist, feel free to leave a review. Oh, and standard disclaimer applies to this chapter.

* * *

_**The following is the journal of an investigation into a smuggling ring, a group which has brought terror not only to Allebahst, but to the world as a whole. It is my hope that through this investigation, I will be able to discover the members of said smuggling ring and take action against them…**_

"You're saying you found this in your evidence locker?" he asked, still having some difficulty believing it. Things did not just _appear _in places, there had to have been a specific reason.

"Exactly," von Karma responded, taking back the notebook, "However, approximately an hour before this appeared in the locker, all of the information regarding the trial, including Mr. Jacob Baikal's notes, was stolen."

"It sounds like there are two people involved…" he trailed off, wondering how likely it was that two people might break into the same locker for opposite purposes in such a short amount of time. It didn't seem likely at all, but he supposed there was no denying fact- it couldn't have been the same person.

"Yes, I believe so. It is likely that the two who entered the locker found the code through use of fingerprinting powder, so I believe it may be someone in the police department here. Perhaps we should run some sort of background check on the local force."

If it had been his own men, he would have vetoed the proposal immediately (his men had been verified a zillion times, and he trusted each and every one of them to an immense degree, much to his current chagrin) but this was a police force he didn't know, in the country very responsible for the smuggling ring. No one would get hurt if they did a check, and the information found might be useful.

"Good idea. I'll ask the police chief to work on that."

There was a short silence, and he could tell von Karma was planning out some sort of question. He wondered if it would be one he would actually want, or be able to answer.

She spoke, finally. "What exactly happened in your interrogation of Ms. Yew yesterday? You were acting very odd when you spoke about it at the meeting…"

Did she want the entire version, sarcastic comments, menacing giggles, and blatantly obvious implications of…a certain issue? Did she really want to know how badly it had gone?

"Lang Zi says- a true wol-"

"If you don't wish to tell me, then say that. I haven't got the time to listen to useless metaphors." Von Karma said curtly.

He could only dodge a question for so long. And if past performance was an indication of anything, it was that he tended to jump in front of things instead of dodging them.

"It wasn't good, sis."

"How so?"

He sighed. "Honestly, Shih-na doesn't feel threatened by the police force at all. She's completely sure the ring is going to get her back, and she's unwilling to cooperate with any questions. The most I could get out of her was that the ring is planning something here in Allebahst."

Von Karma seemed to think of this for a second, the spoke, still as harshly as before. "Are you certain the reason your interrogation was unsuccessful was simply that Ms. Yew is uncooperative? Or could it be she is making personal comments towards you that compromise your abilities as an interrogator?"

He froze.

"No. What happened last week isn't a part of this investigation at all. Shih-na is just uncooperative," he lied through his teeth, hoping that von Karma wouldn't press the issue.

"Well…"she said, "If that is the truth, I believe there is still time for you to have a second interrogation before Ms. Yew is taken to the maximum security prison. However, if I were you I would leave that to a trained professional _without _a personal connection to the interrogatee."

He looked down at the desk, avoiding her eyes. "I'll be fine, sis. Don't worry about it."

"Alright, then," von Karma said, still sounding skeptical, "I'm returning to the investigation now. I will see you later."

The door shut behind her with a loud noise, sounding almost like a gunshot. He felt a slight twinge of pain from the wound in his leg, and immediately fought to ignore it. He didn't have time for that. He had a mission.

Make Shih-na talk.

* * *

"So," she began after returning to the reception area, "The two intrusions of my evidence locker occurred yesterday, and there has been no further development regarding that today."

"I see," Miles said, taking the notebook from her and flipping through the pages with no apparent purpose. There was nothing left to find- she had already looked through most of it in search of the author's name, which didn't appear to have been written. Whoever had created the journal obviously had not wanted anyone to discover their identity, smuggling ring or otherwise.

"Have you thought of who it might be?" he asked her, returning the notebook with an evident appearance of having given up. She was relieved to not be the only one unable to find whatever truth was there. Even after their so-called conversation the day before, he still hadn't convinced her to completely abandon her original goal.

"It is obviously someone with access to this station and to the evidence room, which means that they likely work here. A police officer or an agent, possibly."

"And the same could be said for the person who stole the original evidence, wouldn't you agree?"

She nodded. There was no point in trying to disagree with him or claim that she'd already known that. He had made it annoyingly clear that she would have to work together with him for the rest of the investigation, whether she wanted to strangle him or not. If there was one thing she _really_ hated, it was having to give up a fight that she knew she could eventually win.

"The motive for taking your evidence was simply to hinder the investigation, yes?"

She snapped from her brief reverie and attempted to regard him with somewhat less disdain than usual. "What are you saying, Miles Edgeworth?"

"If there was no particular motive to take it aside from that, there is no reason for the thief to have done anything with it. The evidence could-"

"Still be in the building," she interrupted, having understood faster than he could speak, for once.

"Exactly. I believe if we are to search for it, we should begin in the offices here. And, as we are already allowed in this area, I highly doubt a warrant will be necessary."

The satisfaction she might have gotten from winning was dampered by the desire to see if she was actually correct. If she could find the evidence, she would be that much closer to finding who had stolen it, and in turn, who was actually loyal to the smuggling ring. And on that note, if the thief could be identified by finding the evidence…

"The notebook must be checked for fingerprints. The Bureau of Investigation already has mine on file, however they will need yours in order to rule you out." She gave him the notebook, taking visibly more caution in handling it now that it had become a real piece of evidence. If only she had thought of this before, the prints might have been far easier to find.

"I…understand. In that case, I will speak to the forensics department," Miles said, regarding the notebook with the same caution.

"Good. I am going to find my missing evidence." She smirked, having realized what she had just accomplished, then turned and left him to complete the much less interesting part of the assignment. If she was going to have to work with him, she would at least still be leading the investigation.

* * *

She was lost far faster than she had expected. The building appeared to be larger on the inside than on the outside, and she found herself in unfamiliar territory, amongst a mess of desks, chairs, and computers. Interpol agents and police officers alike walked passed her, giving her slight nods of recognition. She fought the urge to ask them where in the building she was- requesting help was about the most un-von Karmic thing she could think of, aside from not achieving perfection.

She passed by Caspian and Cyan, who appeared to be having some sort of serious discussion, though perhaps not that serious, as Caspian smiled at her passing. She was unaccustomed to being greeted so friendlily and walked a little further, around a corner, without comment. There was no particular reason to say hello or listen to their discussion- she was simply looking for her stolen evidence. If she found it…_once _she found it, she could then attempt to find out where she was.

A small cubicle remained untenanted, but with its computer's screen still displaying information- possibly some sort of email being composed. Her curiosity piqued, and she gave a cursory glance around the near vacant hallway before entering. She wasn't sure why- this had nothing to do with her evidence, and she wasn't going to find anything interesting just by reading some stranger's open em-

_**Why don't you trust me? I explained the situation to you before, and you know exactly who I'm loyal to. I need to be informed of developments in the organization. You can't stop telling me things and expect the plan to still work.**_

She stared at the four sentences for a moment, analyzing them, looking at the specific verbs and nouns used, and coming to the immediate conclusion that something was very strange about this message. To begin with- what exactly was this person communicating with the 'loyalty' statement? What organization? What plan? This did not seem like the typical email to be sent by an officer or agent. This seemed highly suspicious.

Unfortunately, the sender had a username of complete gibberish. She was about to write it down, assuming that it would be useful for something, when she heard the voices of Caspian and Cyan growing louder. They were coming closer, and if they happened to look into the cubicle, they would see her…looking at a private email. That would likely not result well.

She darted out of the roomlet and managed to be down the hallway before the two agents turned the corner. They would not discover what she had done. Of course, this also meant that she would never find the sender of the email, but perhaps that was for the best. There had to be another way to find them, something easier and faster. Some of the agents would be helping with the escort of Calisto Yew to the detention facility that evening, perhaps she could more easily-

No, wait. She hadn't thought this through. The prisoner was being escorted to the facility by agents or police officers. She knew none of them. They could be members of the smuggling ring, with intents to sabotage the transfer and release Calisto Yew back into the world. They could be traitors, and she should not trust them.

She would have to go herself. That was the only way to ensure a safe tran-

"Franziska."

She spun around, finding herself abruptly in the reception lobby from whence she'd begun. Miles and Agent Lang stood in the room- apparently she'd walked right by them, distracted by reverie. On approachment, she observed serious looks on their faces.

"The forensics department found only partials on the notebook, not enough to identify the owner." Miles returned the annoyingly anonymous notebook to her. "I see you did not find your missing evidence."

"No. I did not. However…" she quickly decided to refrain from mentioning the email, and turned to Agent Lang, "I would like to assist in the escort for Ms. Yew to the detention facility. I believe it will be safer in that manner."

"Yes, I would like to come as well, Agent Lang," Miles said. She resisted the urge to glare at him. What about him coming would make anything at all safer?

"Yeah, okay," Agent Lang said, "I can see why it'd be good idea. Most of the pack doesn't even know Shih-na's here, so…maybe the other lead agents should come also, instead of them."

She nodded- the plan appeared to make sense, considering the majority of the number 1's really had no idea what was going on, and Agents Cyan and Caspian did.

"On that note, Agent Lang," Miles began, "I wonder if you might be able to extract any more information from Ms. Yew before she is taken away…"

Strange, that had been almost what she had said earlier that day.

"I was just about to, actually. So I'll see you later, Mr. Edgeworth, Sis."

Agent Lang nodded at them and exited the receptionist lobby.

Miles turned back to her and began to speak. "Do you think that-"

"Why exactly is it necessary for you to come with the escort, Miles Edgeworth?"

He blinked at her for a moment, as though attempting to understand what she considered a very basic question.

"I thought it would be beneficial to have those in charge of the case assisting with the escort. Neither of us works for the smuggling ring, so-"

"I don't believe that is your entire reason. You could have asked another agent whom you trusted to go in your place, but you did not. This leads me to believe that you may be planning something…and if you are lying, and actually working for the ring, I will not hesitate to-"

"Franziska, if you actually want the truth instead of drawing incorrect conclusions, then I would be happy to tell you."

"Alright…then tell me." She said, suspiciously.

He sighed. "To put this…simply, I don't trust you-"

"What!"

"…To exercise the proper amount of safety in a situation like this. If you knew there was a chance the case could be jeopardized, you would do everything in your power to stop it from happening. And that is very dangerous, particularly for you."

"You have no proof of such a thing! How dare you ac-"

"You wanted to continue prosecuting a trial immediately after being shot by a professional assassin. And if I hadn't been there, you would have."

"That's none of your-"

"Concern? Yes, I am aware that it is not my concern and that you are not my responsibility. However, as a friend I would like to ensure that you remain aliv-"

"We are_ not_ friends, Miles Edgeworth." She said coldly, instead of attempting to slap him or the like. She was coming to discover that unfortunately, words usually had more of an effect than violence.

"As an acquaintance then, whatever you prefer."

"I would _prefer_ that you leave this invest-"

His expression turned sharply to a glare. "Be nice, Franziska. Saying things like that will not help you at all."

She felt immeasurably angry at that moment, and it took much self-restraint to refrain from resorting to her usual tactics for forcing people to become silent. She doubted it would help- it never seemed to with him.

"Whatever. I refuse to speak of this any more."

She turned and marched from the lobby, ignoring the smirking receptionist and the confused-looking number 1. They were all such…foolish fools. _Especially _Miles Edgeworth.

* * *

"How nice to see you again, Agent Lang. Spending all day in a prison cell _does _get lon-"

"Don't even try that, Shih-na. It's not going to work." He said, taking a seat at the other side of the interrogation table.

"Are you certain of that? It worked quite well yeste-"

"The faster you talk, the faster this is over with. What is the ring planning in Allebahst?" he said, attempting his best glare towards the smirking interrogatee. She simply blinked back at him, and the silence lasted a five-year long ten seconds.

She sighed. "Alright, you win. I will tell you."

He tried not to register a look of surprise. Was she really going to give in this easily? Was she really going to tell him the ring's plans? Something was too strange about this…

"They are planning a tea party. And you are invited."

He stood abruptly and slammed his hands onto the table. He couldn't listen to this anymore, especially not when he knew it was his fault for not being harsh enough.

"What about this don't you understand, Shih-na! You're in prison! You aren't leaving! If you don't give us any information into the ring, you're going to receive the worst punishment for what you did."

"And you wouldn't like that, would yo-"

"It's _over, _Shih-na. You betrayed me. I stopped caring about you the second I realized who you really were." He paused to let his words sink into his own mind reassuringly. "I'm not going to be sympathetic about any of this. Tell me the truth now, or you'll never get that chance again."

"You do not care about me, Agent Lang? How rude…"

He forced himself to sit down again, forced himself to remain calm and emotionless. She would notice any weakness or restraint he showed, no matter how small- she knew him too well.

And yet, she was a total stranger to him, an entirely different person then the shadow of the one he remembered. She was nameless and faceless, with no true identity or personality she hadn't invented herself. She was the existence of pure evil.

And she was Shih-na. Somewhere inside of her, Shih-na existed. He couldn't forget that.

"Tell the truth."

She sighed again. "I'm going to have to politely refuse. I would rather not tell you, and I will not need to, ever. As I told you yesterday, I will not be here for much longer…"

"Keep telling yourself that, Shih-na. It's never going to happen. There's no way that it can."

She stood, and walked to the door, and opened it. An agent outside quickly snapped to attention and extracted a pair of handcuffs, though he doubted there was any serious threat of something happening. Shih-na turned and smiled back at him.

"We'll just have to wait and see who is correct then, won't we?"

She walked out, letting the door slam behind her, leaving him alone in the interrogation room. As though they had switched places- he the prisoner and she the one holding him captive. Sometimes it felt as though that was exactly what was happening, impossible as it might have been.

* * *

"Judging from your expression, I am going to presume that your interrogation with Ms. Yew went no better than the one yesterday," she muttered upon Agent Lang's arrival. A serious, slightly angry expression in place of a satisfied grin…she was relieved that she did not wear her own emotions on a sleeve like he did. As good of an agent as he was, she worried it might compromise the investigation if such a character trait continued.

"She's convinced the ring is coming to reclaim her now, and that she doesn't need to say anything."

There was dull chatter in the background, and she observed two guards escorting Calisto Yew to an Interpol van parked in the center of the lot. She was to be a passenger of said van, a hopefully unnecessary precaution against whatever might occur.

"I do not believe that that is possible. It would be far too difficult to escape from a maximum security prison such as the one she is going to, and very few officers are even aware that she is being transported to that facility."

"Or that's she's even here in Allebahst…"

"I would say that the truth has gotten out, Agent Lang. I believe that most of your agents are already aware of that fact. I spoke to one of them, and he was concerned that you were suddenly going to disappear from your leadership position and cause instant chaos, and also that you were becoming distracted. Apparently you forgot about said agent's distant relative's birthday, and that's very unlike you."

She watched recognition dawn on his face in place of the previous scowl. She wondered if he had noticed at all the implications she and the agent had made.

"Yeah, I did forget…tell him I apologize, and I'm just having some problems organizing."

"I would, but I have absolutely no idea wh-"

"And I'm not going to disappear. I have a responsibility for my pack, and nothing gets in the way of that. Nothing."

He seemed frighteningly sincere (more sincere than she had ever been about anything she said), so she elected to stop the questioning and allow him peace of mind.

"Good. I'm relieved to hear that, Agent Lang."

There was a momentary silence, and she observed the foolish fool approaching her, and Agents Cyan and Caspian as well- though Cyan's sarcastic, bored expression seemed out of place among the sea of serious faces.

"Agent Lang, Franziska…" said fool began upon arrival, "We should probably leave as soon as possib-"

She cut him off and turned to the two agents of remarkably different personalities. "Are either or both of you planning to assist in the escort?"

"No way. I have better things to do," Cyan snapped.

"I apologize, Miss von Karma, however I already have plans, as does Judge Wellington." Caspian added, seeming to show no reaction whatsoever to his fellow agent's comment. She wondered if the two were actually friends, or simply happened to appear in the same place at the same time everywhere she looked.

"In that case, I suppose the remaining spaces will be filled by other Interpol agents. And we should be leaving immediately."

The fool looked as though he were about to say something, but she ignored him and directed towards the Interpol van in the center of the parking lot. She intended to accompany the main vehicle, as in the event of an emergency, that would be the primary target. There would not be emergencies though- this was simply a precaution against anything bad occurring. But nothing was going to happen.

She sat in the passenger's seat and her eyes drifted subconsciously toward the mirror, to be faced with a creepily smiling Calisto Yew. She shuddered silently and looked away. Hopefully there would be no awkward conversation during the ride.

"Sorry, sis," Agent Lang began, entering the driver's side of the vehicle, "I had to tell the second number 1 to the right and the third number 1 in the fifth ro-"

"The first vehicle is leaving, Agent Lang. I would suggest you follow it."

She watched his eyes flick to the mirror for a moment, and he seemed to come to the same reaction as she had. She wondered briefly what might have possibly occurred in the interrogation, and if it was what she had questioned him about earlier in the day. Though she supposed it would not particularly matter anymore, as if Calisto Yew was no longer involved in the investigation, he would be less distracted than he had seemed to be. She had only known him for a short time, but it seemed unlike him and probably spurred from that specific reason.

The line of cars proceeded for approximately five minutes through the urbanized zone of the city, passing skyscrapers surrounded by grand deciduous trees and small incessantly bright-colored flowers. She had not usually been one to pay attention to scenery, as she always had a specific purpose in mind to fulfill, but the mixture of industry and natural environment was out of the ordinary, especially for a relatively small country with not a high amount of funding. It seemed wrong and unnatural that a large component of the smuggling ring could have come from a place with an env-

There was a loud noise, like the sound of a door slamming open to collide with a brick wall. She glanced out the window to observe that that exact thing had occurred- and was followed by many more actions exactly like that along the street they drove on. It was beginning to grow dark, though she could see the shadows of figures who had opened the doors, and though they did not appear entirely friendly, it was not her immediate instinct to think of them as a threat.

And she continued to not think of them as a threat when she noticed the two unmarked vans that had driven up to block the road in front of them. She had wished that she only be allowed to complete this one task, only this one mission, without any interference, and so this could not actually be happening. Truly, they were not being attacked in any way, and would not ever during this transport. She had assured herself too many times that nothing would happen, and so what was occurring in the street was still nothing at all. It wasn't real. Only a misunderstanding.

And then the bullet came- smacking into the window with a thud that nearly cracked the plexiglass and stopped mere inches from her face. As hard as she might try, _that_ was impossible to ignore.

The truth- the unmistakable truth- had won again.


	7. Chapter 6

Well, here is the next chapter (which I actually managed to finish on time). It's title is 'An Astonishing Lack of Trust'. (In case no one has realized, I have to write the titles here because they refuse to fit in the appropriate title space.)

I just realized Lang only has 3 lines in this chapter...DX. This story really is about him, though...he'll have more lines in the next chapter. Anyway, here it is. Reviews are always appreciated, readers who may, but probably do not exist. Thank you to Indochine Ramera for proving her existence.

Disclaimer: I decline from making any claims that I ever have owned, own, or will own the characters used and subjected to moral dilemas in this fanfiction.

* * *

She would remember every detail of the next sixty seconds in horribly perfect clarity. Every tick of the clock in her head would last a lifetime or longer, every moment of fear would burn into her memory and never heal, every breath she forced herself to take would feel like she was inhaling water instead of air.

And as she thought back to what had happened, she could recite the exact mistakes she and the driver of that van had made that had caused everything to go so badly. But that recitation would be in the future, those memories would be things she would really look back on, and for the moment she was still in the present.

Agent Lang spun the wheel of the van around. At the time she was distracted by the bullet that had just smashed into her window, and didn't have time to logically consider why he would have done that. Perhaps it was just a reaction he hadn't given any thought to. Or perhaps, and more likely, he had realized exactly what was happening before she could even accept the situation as fact.

In either case, the van spun a quarter of the way around, to face sideways in the middle of the alley. From her new vantage point, she saw another pair of unmarked vehicles blocking the other exit to the street, meaning there was no way out of this trap they had stumbled into. Another bullet impacted with the window, this time slicing through it and embedding itself in the ceiling.

She turned to Agent Lang, willing him to understand what exactly was occurring, and noticed that he seemed to be saying something in slow motion, as though the viscosity of time had increased to the point that it now had the consistency of maple syrup. She heard him though, clearly over the sound of gunshots in the background.

"They're after Shih-na. I'll stop them."

She knew that, she knew it somewhere in mind, though she didn't comprehend what it meant. Though she knew one thing- that she needed to stop them as well. She reached for the door handle.

"You don't have a gun, sis."

There was no problem with that…there must have been some way she could stop them without the use of such a weapon…and she did have a whip. That was all-purpose, and never ceased to have an effect.

"Chase them if something happens," he said, time speeding up to the point that she could barely distinguish one word from the next. He reached for the door handle and was gone in a split second.

A bullet shattered the windshield. And she fought to avoid any further ammunition while pulling herself into the driver's seat. She wasn't entirely sure what Agent Lang had meant by 'chase them', but she was going to assume he really wanted her to go after any leaving members of the smuggling ring. She could do that perfectly well, at least if she wasn't shot first.

The back of the van opened after a few well placed shots to the lock. Her eyes darted to the mirror, possibly the only glass that wouldn't be shot out anytime soon, and saw that indeed, it had been done by a pair of ring members clad in black. They looked oddly like ninjas, though she didn't have the time to speculate on the origins of their costumes. They were also both dead in three seconds. She saw Agent Lang, and had a moment of relief that the plan had been foiled.

But only a moment. Because in the very next moment, the tables turned. No, it was more than that…the tables were taken entirely apart and then reconstructed in the opposite formation. Everything changed the way that it always did- in the second she blinked her eyes.

Two more ring members appeared, and evil triumphed over good in the way it always seemed to. She only saw Agent Lang for a second more before he was dragged out of view by that evil, followed closely by the prisoner he'd been trying to stop from escaping.

Gunshots came again through the driver's side window, and she looked to see that it was ending. The ring was retreating into their vehicles, destined to continue down the road and never be caught, unless she did what she was asked to do.

They were beginning to pull away from the street. Without thought, based solely on instinct, she pressed the accelerator pedal…

And accelerated into the wall.

The airbag exploded into her face, and she knew in that moment that she had lost her chance. The ring had gotten away, and they had taken Calisto Yew and Shi-Long Lang with them.

* * *

She pulled herself blindly from the wreckage of glass fragments and into the street, stopping for a moment to catch her breath and wonder exactly what had just happened. From the looks of it, the smuggling ring had found the route they were coming on, and created an ambush so as to reclaim their former member. She couldn't be entirely sure if they had intended to kidnap Agent Lang as well, but the smuggling ring was filled with unlikely and even ridiculous motives and methods- her previous case with them had taught her that much.

But, in other observations, it appeared several members of the ring had managed to fill the Interpol van with bullet holes, and considering the desolate, empty appearance of the first vehicle in the escort, she assumed the two agents there had been killed. The patrol car that had been behind the van had probably been extinguished as well. She was lucky to have her life.

Wait. Hadn't Miles Edgeworth been in the third vehicle?

She supposed it might be slightly important to check for any signs of life in that area, and walked cautiously around the van, with the vague worry that members of the ring might still be there, though it was perfectly silent and still. Perhaps everyone else truly was dead…that would certainly make the investigation interesting. And it wasn't as if she actually cared, though perhaps she might feel slightly guilty if-

"Are you alright?" the fool asked, suddenly appearing from nowhere on the other side of the van.

"…yes," she replied, voice quieter than she had anticipated. As if there was only a certain amount of volume the world could have in a five minute period, and the loudness of the gunshots had taken that volume away from her. She decided to speak louder, lest the fool get the impression that she was less than alright.

"…Any particular reason you just drove into a brick wall?"

"Shut up," she informed him, the reality that at the very least, she was alive, sinking in.

Of course, she also had the slight problem of Agent Lang now being kidnapped, and having no one at all to lead his pack while he was searched for. The number 1 she'd spoken with had been right after all. Their 'Shifu' had disappeared, and now they were a leaderless army, milling around with a no sense of where to go, and a few missing members.

"Did they reclaim Ms. Yew?"

She sighed, wondering how he could have not already noticed. "Yes, obviously. Agent Lang was taken as well, and I was unable to pursue the smuggling ring."

"Don't blame yourself for it. There wa-"

The fool Miles Edgeworth was cut off from playing whatever card he was planning to play as the dim headlights of another car appeared at the back of the alley, slowing down to a stop. She had the sickening feeling that it was the smuggling ring, returned to 'finish them off' for some odd reason. Though, seeing the driver's face as they stepped out of the vehicle, she was even more surprised.

It was Caspian. He exited and proceeded to walk quickly in their direction, and she felt some sort of sinister presence, though she knew it was only her imagination. The feeling that something horrible was about to happen would probably continue for the rest of the day, perhaps the rest of the week. She wished it would not, but considering past experience…after the incident a year before, it had taken her several days to cease the reaction of fear whenever she heard a loud noise. She vowed to overcome it faster this time- it had been far too embarrassing before, and if she was to work to the best of her ability on this case, she needed complete concentration.

But she was becoming sidetracked. Caspian was here, and evidently was planning to speak.

"Miss von Karma! Mr. Edgeworth! Are you- is Agent Lang alright?"

She admired his quick deduction skills, though they didn't exactly help to solve any of the problems.

"No. He was taken by the smuggling ring, which continued in that direction," she said, pointing behind her towards the other vehicles, "The ring also reclaimed their former member, Calisto Yew."

Caspian looked down, expression a mixture of shock and horror- certainly a dramatic combination, though somehow she hadn't quite understood fully the reality of the situation. Agent Lang was gone. What exactly was she to do with the investigation now? And how was she to lead a group of 99…no, probably 96 Interpol agents well, when their former leader had set a ridiculously high standard?

Oh well, she would figure that out later. What was important now was that the Agents on the case meet to discuss what had happened and what possible plans might be- she would understand her new role later. And hopefully, they could reclaim Agent Lang before any more serious problems occurred.

"Franziska, we should probably alert the Bureau of Investigation, as well as some sort of medical service…"

"I would say that the other agents are likely dead, if not on the verge of death. What-"

Miles cut her off, "Yes, however you've been exposed to quite a number of glass shards at high velocity, and with all due respect, you look terrible."

She ignored his insulting comment and turned back to Caspian, who now appeared vaguely grim. She wondered why he'd arrived here in the first place, and so quickly at that.

"How exactly did yo-"

"Miss von Karma, I believe that I should contact the proper authorities at this time, so if you will excuse me…" the agent nodded and turned back to his car, extracting a cell phone.

Much to her chagrin, she was left with no one to talk to but the annoying alive fool who took it upon himself to offer medical advice in a rude manner. Perhaps if she was not seriously beginning to wonder the reason Caspian was here, she would not have spoken to him…but she could think of no plausible situations for the agent to have arrived within a minute of the incident.

"How exactly is it possible that Agent Caspian could find this location so quickly? It's as if he knew already what had happened…"

Miles nodded seriously. "I would say it's highly unlikely for it to be simply a coincidence, however, you can't accuse anyone of anything without sufficient proof."

"Hmph. You know me better than that, Miles Edgeworth. I will have the proof you only seem to acknowledge immediately."

She would. Through every second, every word she saw Caspian say, she could see the guilt in his face. He was responsible for this disaster in some way, she was sure of it. And as she had said before, anyone who had lied, who in actuality worked for the smuggling ring…would pay the price.

* * *

She had, much to her disdain, received minor medical treatment for the supposed glass shards in her skin, and had then proceeded directly back to the Bureau of Investigation, announcing that there would be an immediate meeting of all lead agents on the case, regardless of whatever supposedly 'important' thing they were currently doing. This problem trumped everything else.

Agent Lang had been kidnapped.

What was she supposed to do about it? Certainly, she had to find out where he was, but it wasn't as though she'd installed some tracking device on him, or had any possible idea of where the ring's hideout was. And a more pressing concern existed as well- what was she to do during his absence? There were no real leads, other than her recently evoked suspicions of Caspian, which she did not know what would become of, and…that was it. Their only other lead had disappeared along with Agent Lang- another ring member reclaimed, another evil taking back to the streets.

Perhaps, though she did not enjoy admitting it, this was her fault. If she had not predicted the trip's riskiness, if she had not attempted to find a role on the escort, there would simply have been a few more deaths of number 1's. But she had talked Agent Lang into this, and then been no help whatsoever when requested to do one thing, and one thing alone. She hadn't succeeded in pursuing in the ring. They were gone, and the case was practically dea-

"Von Karma, are you just going to stare at the wall for this whole meeting? I had plans, you know…" Cyan said, dragging her out of her uncharacteristic reverie of guilt.

"Your plans can wait, _Agent _Cyan. I would say that this is far more important than any _foolish _thing you wer-"

"Calm down, Franziska. They only need to know the facts."

She gritted her teeth and refrained from telling him to be quiet in an impolite manner. "Whatever. The point is that we are now short an essential investigator, suffered three casualties, and lost Ms. Yew to her former side. We are in serious trouble, and I expec-"

"With um…no due respect, von Karma, how is this our fault?"

Her fingers instinctively went for her whip, but she restrained them, knowing no amount of punishment would ever make this rude agent cease from her…general and sincere rudeness.

"Is it not completely obvious? The mere fact that the smuggling ring knew exactly what route the escort would be taking shows that somewhere in this investigation, there is a mole. I believe I stated before what would happen if any of you were affiliated with the ring…"

"Ha!" Cyan exclaimed, "Trying to accuse one of us of being in the ring…you could be in it yourself! For all we know, you could be trying to distract us with accusations, while you go around spilling important secrets!"

That was it. She refused to deal with this person in the mature way. It-

"Agent Cyan, if you do not mind me interrupting…" Miles said, putting his hand up toward her as though asking her to refrain. "But I have known Miss von Karma for a very long time, and I can assure you that she is not associated with the smuggling ring."

"Of course you can assure us of that. But why should we believe you? Maybe you work for the ring also. And while we're at it, who else can we accuse? Oh, that's right. Agent Lang."

Everyone excluding the judge stared in stunned silence at Cyan, who looked dreadfully serious.

"What exactly are you implying, Agent Cyan?"

The agent grinned darkly. "Do you really think that he never realized who his assistant was? Do you really think he would have taken that bullet for her if he hadn't been secretly working for her side?"

"That was not the reason. Absolutely not," she said, without pausing to think about it. The accusations being thrown so casually around were simply ridiculous. Even more ridiculous than when she'd been accused of murder just the past week…

"Really? So you know what the reason was?" Cyan retorted.

She hesitated. Truly, she could infer certain things, but…

"No, I do not know the real reason. However-"

"So, then we've established the fact that Agent Lang works for the smuggling ring. We also know that you, von Karma, and probably Mr. Edgeworth there do too. I'd say that any evidence you find should be dismissed immediately, and-"

"Everything you have said thus far is complete and utter nonsense! You do not have a shred of proof, and yet you continue to spin _foolish-_"

"Whatever you say, von Karma. I'll just bring it up with the chief of police…but if you don't mind- no wait, even if you do mind, I'm scheduling that meeting for tomorrow. Like I said, I have plans."

Cyan stood, and at a face pace (as though running from the meeting) exited the room, followed quickly by the judge, who had said nothing the entire time.

* * *

"Mr. Edgeworth, Miss von Karma, I would like to apologize for my coworker…it seems she has certain suspicions of the two of you…" Caspian said sincerely.

Miles nodded as though accepting, and she decided to fast-forward to the point of the conversation she was about to have. Certainly it had been an…informative declaration of Cyan's horrible skills of logic, but the agent had failed to mention the truly suspicious person in the investigation.

"Agent Caspian, I would like to know exactly how-"

Miles interrupted her, as he seemed to do annoying often. "We were simply surprised at the short amount of time that it took you to find the crime scene, Agent Caspian. Did you happen to be in the area?"

"I did." Caspian assented, "I was returning to my hotel, and I heard several gunshots. I decided to investigate the location they had come from, and I found the two of you. I certainly hope you did not sustain any injuries."

She did not understand this at all. How could anyone react so logically after hearing unexpected and unknown gunshots? What was more, how could anyone react so calmly, so _innocently_ to being accused of being suspicious? This agent…it was as though he was far too…_nice _to ever have done anything bad.

No way. She refused to believe it. No matter what explanation he tried to offer, there was still some inconsistency. This was too convenient to be an explanation , and she would find out exactly what was going on.

"And…I'm sorry, but I intended to return to my hotel before this unfortunate incident occurred…if there is nothing more that you need assistance with, I will be leaving."

She nodded without thought, still plotting methods for exposing him as who she believed he was- another traitor.

"I'll ask again, Franziska…are you certain that you are alright? You seemed…unusually more upsetable during that conversation," Miles stated, as though attempting to resume their game of cards from earlier. He certainly seemed to enjoy playing the concern card, perhaps as it annoyed her to no end.

"Did you not hear Agent Cyan? She accused us both of working for the smuggling ring. She accused Agent Lang as well, when he has done nothing but fight against the smuggling ring from the beginning!"

He sighed. "Yes, I agree that he has, however…I understand how an outsider might see his actions in a way that would make him seem a criminal. It was an unlikely and poorly made choice to take a bullet for a traitor."

"Yes, however…there are many other motives for that I would think of first, before simply assuming that he was a traitor himself."

There was a long, slightly uncomfortable silence, and she stared at the ticking clock, surprised to find it approaching 21:00 hours- though it had been a lengthened day since the incident had occurred. Perhaps it was getting to be time to leave, but she knew that this case was far too important to abandon for silly things like sleep.

"This investigation is certainly proving to be dangerous."

She blinked. "So it is."

"I'm relieved tha-"

The door swung open and smashed into the wall, and for a moment she was positive that the smuggling ring had found her, and was planning to brutally murder her where she was. That was unfortunate, though luckily it proved to not be true.

Instead, it was a petite, female forensic scientist, who didn't even appear capable of opening a door with that kind of force.

"Miss von Karma! I just got some results and stuff!" said scientist exclaimed, waving papers crazily in the air and seeming rather obviously to be new at the job. How dreadfully irritating.

"Results of _what _exactly?" she replied curtly.

"They found a gun right next to one of the cars that was used to kill the driver of that car! And we took prints from it, and it matched one of the fingerprint files we have! I think it's one we just added, actually…but anyway! My superior said I should tell you immediately what we found!" There were few in the present time, but it seemed as though persons who ended every sentence with an exclamation mark still existed. Though, she supposed, anything was better than the 'magical' guard of the evidence room.

But none of that particularly mattered- she was quite curious to see whose prints had been found on the murderous gun, wielded by some mysterious member of the smuggling ring whom she would gladly serve justice to.

"…Do you think you could cut to the chase and say whose prints you actually found?"

"Yes! It says here…it's funny, the name sounded a little familiar and stuff..."

Familiar? What could possibly be familiar about someone in the smuggling ring!

"Just say whose it was!"

There was a long pause, and the scientist flipped the paper around several times, as though completely unable to read. She resisted the urge to rip the paper from the woman's hands and read it herself, though finally, the truth was spoken.

"Well…" the illiterate began, "It says here it's someone named 'Miles Edgeworth'. He's not a citizen of Cohdopia, but-"

"WHAT!" was all she managed to say.

"Um…that's what it says, ma'am!"

There was another, equally uncomfortable, though much shorter silence. She turned to the apparent perpetrator, the foolish fool who'd supposedly done this foolish crime, and demanded one thing.

"Miles…you'd _better _have a good explanation for this…"


	8. Chapter 7

Apologies for the delay. I will be busy this week as well, so I'm not certain Chapter 8 will be posted on time, but that chapter should be shorter than usual so maybe it will. Anyway, this is Chapter 7, called 'In Which Threats Are Made And Suspicions Are Evoked'. I think my chapter titles are becoming too descriptive...O.o

So, reviews are always appreciated, thank you to Indochine Ramera and mayafeyfan101 for reviews, and to other readers whose existences I am seriously beginning to doubt...feel free to review, I would like to hear your thoughts.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters in this fanfiction. Lang has more than three lines this chapter. Yay.

* * *

She hated clocks. She hated hearing them tick, hearing seconds go by in absolute and impenetrable silence. She also hated not understanding a situation- especially the situation that was currently occurring.

"Well?" she exclaimed, seeing that it would take some prompting to get any kind of response.

Miles remained silent, staring intently at the wall as though fabricating some sort of half-baked excuse for this. As though there could be any adequate excuse for explaining one's fingerprints on a murder weapon- no one had gotten away with that…

"Y-You're the criminal!" the forensic scientist cried, hopping a few steps backward as though expecting a bullet to come flying her direction. "That's! I'm! Going to get the police now! You stay there, you criminal person!"

After the lovely display of histrionics, said scientist slammed the door shut and disappeared, leaving her to extract some logical explanation in the next two minutes. As if there could even be one.

"Alright, I understand how this misunderstanding could oc-"

She cut him off. "How could you do this, Miles! How could you kill someone! How could you work for the smuggling ring!"

He stared at her, as though surprised she would believe in evidence instead of testimony. Did he know her at all? No matter who it was, she was not inclined to believe them unless they could support their case with pure fact.

"I'm not working for the-" he began, still apparently not understanding.

"Oh, and I suppose you've _always _been working for them! Accusing Quercus Alba, then! That was all part of some master plan, and now you're helping them terrorize Interpol! You practically killed three agents!" Her inner monologue was progressing at the speed of light, calculating exactly how her newly-created theory could work, and whether or not it would be plausible. But there was no question- of course it was. Her line of thinking had to be true, there was no counterexplanation.

"No, I-"

"When did they recruit you, Miles! And why would you agree to something like that! Are you so foolishly greedy that you would betray everyone and become a criminal! And you thought _I _wouldn't figure it-"

"Franziska! I'm not working for the smuggling ring! I can explain!"

What if he could explain?

"Why should I believe anything you tell me! You're just going to fill my head with some foolish nonsense-"

"Would you just listen to me for half a second! Really, Franziska…do you _honestly _believe I would work for the smuggling ring? After I put two of them in jail?"

She was silent for a moment, regarding the statement, noticing the flaws it exposed in her argument, although…she had just said that she did not trust that line of thinking. There was only one thing she trusted, even if it went against normal common sense, certain things had to be true.

"Well…I admit it does seem a bit…unlikely…" she began.

"Then you understand that I couldn't have done it?"

"_However, _it means nothing in the face of irrefutable evidence! You should know that, Mil-"

"Franziska! This isn't my trial! You're not the prosecutor! Just let me explain what happened!"

The ticking of the clock returned, louder and more menacing than ever. What if he could explain after all? What if, and she wasn't saying it for certain, but what if there was another reason for the evidence?

"…Fine. You have thirty seconds. And this better be good."

He sighed. "Alright, what I believe happened is this: the smuggling ring ambushed the escort and-"

"Yes, because I had _no _idea of that, Miles Edgeworth…"

He ignored her and continued. "I was in the passenger's seat of the third car. The window on my side was shattered very quickly due to stray gunfire."

Miles paused for a moment, as though she was a child and needed to take notes and ask questions to understand the story. She glared at him.

"Immediately following that…I believe the Interpol agent driving the vehicle received a bullet to the head."

"And that was the one that you shot, correct?"

He glared back at her. "At least make an effort to listen, Franziska. As I was saying, I believe the driver was shot by a ring member located outside of the vehicle…"

"Who then gave you his weapon and told you to reveal him to the entire police department?"

Miles blinked for a moment. "Yes, that is almost what happened…the shooter was wearing gloves, so his prints would not be found on the weapon, but he did proceed to toss it through the shattered window. I picked it up, which is how my fingerprints were on it, and then when I exited the vehicle, I believe I dropped it outside. I would assume the forensics team found it in that location."

She stared at him, wondering if he was being serious. If he was not, she would slap him for having to listen to such a horrible joke, and if he was…well, she supposed there would be no better explanation…though she wished he hadn't created a story so obviously false.

"You don't believe me, do you…"

"How am I supposed to believe you! That was the most unbelievable excuse I've ever heard!"

He sighed again. "Franziska, it's not the first time something like this has happened…I seem to have a tendency of making myself a suspect in crimes…"

"I…can't believe anything you say. I don't understand what you were expecting from me, but I won't accept that sort of ridiculous explanation from anyone. And not from you. If you're looking for someone to believe in you, go ask that foolish defense attorney."

"…I shouldn't have expected that from you, Franziska. You're not that sort of person, and no one is going to change that."

She stared at the cold, unforgiving metal table. The clock ticked ten more deafening times, and the door finally opened. She was relieved- any sort of relief from this conversation, now turned to uncomfortable silence, was good.

"That's the one! He's the criminal person who killed the agent!" shouted the returned forensic scientist to whoever accompanied her.

"Really? For a murderer, that's like, a magical outfit. Huh."

She cringed. Why on earth hadn't this guard been fired yet?

"Hey! I just remembered! I know you! You were the one who got your stuff stolen…or was it that scary lady?…I don't remember. But anyway, I remember you being there! That was like, magical."

"We have to get him arrested! He could kill us any minute!" exclaimed the forensic scientist, hiding behind the fool of a guard.

"I have no intention of harming anyone or otherwise resisting arrest," Miles said, standing and raising his hands in surrender. She wondered how he could be so calm, considering the charges he was facing and the fact that he had no one on his side. When she herself had been accused…it had been different- she had not reacted calmly at all, even though she knew there were others that saw through the accusation.

There was some, fundamental difference between the two of them, and she could not understand how it existed.

"Wow! He just got up and, like, put his hands up really magically! That's just so…magical! I wish I could be like that!"

That guard would be seeing leather if he continued to speak in such a foolish manner. Really, how many times could one reuse the same word?

"Handcuff him! Quickly! He might change his mind!"

"Don't worry…I have the magical handcuffs right here! They're chock full of magical_icity!"_

She watched from the corner of her eye as the guard handcuffed Miles, and began to escort him from the room with no sense of magical_ness _at all. The man she had always hated turned back to look at her, as though planning to say something else.

"What is it?" she snapped, refusing to return the glance. What exactly was he planning to tell her now?

"…If you wouldn't mind, Franziska…I've been keeping the detective updated on the progression of this case. I evidently won't be able to anymore, and I'd appreciate it if you would."

Foolishly foolish fool. She still hated him.

* * *

"Thank you for accompanying me, Miss von Karma."

Darkness had long since fallen, and she could barely see the foliage on the sides of the road by the dim streetlights. The houses appeared vacant, either because their inhabitants were asleep, or because they were hiding from the gunshots heard earlier in the day. Whatever the case, it was quiet inside the Interpol van.

"I realize that this is a change in plans, however I encountered the chief of police as I was leaving the building. He informed me that the lead agents of the case needed to go there as soon as possible for the investigation, and report back afterwards for a meeting, regardless of the time. Agent Cyan will be coming as well- I was able to convince her to do so," Caspian said calmly, turning onto a street that approached the crime scene.

"And I suppose she will do nothing but complain the entire time and make ridiculous accusations…"

The agent smiled. "I am afraid so. However, I wished to speak with you for that same reason."

She paused, attempting to understand and failing. "Are you accusing me of working for the smuggling ring as well?"

"No, I was simply wondering why you seem so suspicious of me. I know you find it odd that I located the scene of the crime so quickly, but I can assure you it was only luck."

"How do yo-"

"I've wanted to be an Interpol agent for a long time now, and I would never do anything remotely disloyal to the organization. You can trust me, Miss von Karma. I am aware that it is a lot to ask, especially with the events of last week, but I would never betray anyone."

The words floated into her mind, settling over what she'd been told just twenty minutes before. What sort of person was she? What exactly had Miles Edgeworth meant by that statement, that no one was ever going to change who she was?

"I cannot trust you, Agent Caspian. I would say that…during this stage of the investigation, no one is ever what they appear to be. If I allowed myself to trust a person, they could easily manipulate me."

She would never be manipulated, not by anyone. No one would ever trick her the way…the way Agent Lang had been tricked. She might have learned an important lesson from him, had she not already known it.

"I understand, Miss von Karma. The police chief also informed me that Mr. Edgeworth is under serious suspicion of working for the smuggling ring…I suppose that must be difficult for you to comprehend."

It wasn't, not really. She'd been searching for some way to exact her revenge on him, and this definitely qualified. Granted, the last time he'd been accused of a crime, he hadn't actually committed it, however…the evidence was far too strong this time.

"No. It is not. If you'll excuse me, I need to make a phone call." She took out her cell phone, wishing this task did not ever have to be done, and found the number of the detective in her address book. He was listed under the name 'Scruffy McTrenchcoat', of course. The phone rang several times, and she checked the clock to ascertain that it was, indeed, a reasonable time in Los Angeles.

"M-M-Miss von Karma, sir!" came the voice on the phone. She held it three inches from her ear to refrain from going deaf.

"Why are you so surprised, Scruffy?" she snapped.

"Err…I was…expecting a call from Mr. Edgeworth, and um…not you. Aren't you both working on the same investigation?"

She wished she could have whipped the detective through the phone, though it was sadly impossible.

"Miles Edgeworth is a despicable fool who murders Interpol agents and works for the smuggling ring. He has asked me to inform you of what has occurred in his place."

"He works for the smuggling ring, sir! There's no way! Mr. Edgeworth would never do that!"

She moved the phone four more inches away, seeing as this would be a rather loud conversation. "Well, he does. Also, the smuggling ring reclaimed Calisto Yew, and they've kidnapped Agent Lang."

"They kidnapped! What!" the detective shouted with equal loudness.

"They got back Ms. Yew!" exclaimed a female voice in the background, which sounded suspiciously like a certain Kay Faraday. Slightly odd, but that particular teenager did seem to tag along on anything related to the smuggling ring case.

"Yes…" she replied, "They did. We are currently looking for oth-"

"Haha! And they kidnapped wolfy-boy! That's great!" exclaimed 'Kay Faraday', evidently not understanding the gravity of the situation. "But still…we have to find Ms. Yew again, no matter what…I can't believe sh-"

"You're wasting my cell phone's minutes, Miss Faraday. Could you please arrive at the point?"

"Wow! Gummy, guess what? Miss von Karma can hear me!"

"Yeah, I got this great thing called a speederphone…or maybe it was speakerphone…huh. Anyway, it's great! I got a bonus in the last case for crawling through that fireplace! Looks like Mr. Edgeworth is a nice guy after all, huh!"

She gripped the phone tightly enough to crumple it. There had been a point to this conversation, and it had run off in between talk of 'speederphones' and pay raises.

"I don't know, I still think Mr. Edgeworth can be pretty mean…but hey, if he got you a pay raise, that's gr-"

"Could you two foolish fools be quiet for half a second!" Caspian looked at her confusedly, but continued driving. "Miles Edgeworth works for the smuggling ring. He murdered an Interpol agent today. Is there something about this you are not understanding?"

"Haha! That's funny, Miss von Karma! But really, can we talk to him? You're kinda scary today!"

"Oh!" the detective exclaimed, "So that was a joke about the Mr. Edgeworth thing, then…you really convinced me! So yeah, could we talk to him, sir?"

"He's _dead," _she informed them, and clicked the phone shut. She would allow them to think that- it was practically true after all…there was no chance him of getting out of this, not without that defense attorney.

"Who is dead, Miss von Karma? I offer my condolences…"

She was silent, still glaring at the phone, daring the detective to call back.

"Actually, I have been meaning to ask…you've been carrying that notebook around for a while. Is it evidence or the like?" Caspian asked, motioning toward the notebook she'd put on the dashboard.

"It's..." she paused, wondering if was alright to tell him, and supposing it was, "…someone created a journal relating to the smuggling ring. It was found the other day, and since then I have been searching for clues in it."

Caspian took the notebook and flipped through it, stopping to examine the text inside. His thoughts were completely unclear, though if they had ever been remotely clear, she would have known for certain whose side he was on.

"The handwriting seems familiar, but other than that I have no idea. Sorry to be of no help, Miss von Karma," he said politely, and returned it to her. She wondered what he meant by 'familiar', though it was probably nothing at all. The mind could trick a person into seeing false details, coming to incorrect conclusions, and doing irrational things. She worried she was making a mistake of the second category- but there was no time to think of that now.

* * *

"There's nothing even here, Caspian. What exactly are we _doing?_ And why is that von Karma lady here? Did we already establish that she was a traitor?"

Amazing- she was standing only five feet away from the two agents, and yet Cyan was not ceasing to complain about her presence and continue her ridiculous accusations. Perhaps that agent had been right with one of them, but the other two were absolutely wrong. Agent Lang would never ever work for the smuggling ring- never even empathize with a single member or idea.

But what of Caspian? Certainly, everything about him screamed 'innocence', but there was still the unignorable fact of how quickly he'd found the crime scene. Was she just supposed to accept his explanation? Certainly not without proof.

"I am aware that you dislike Miss von Karma, however she is an important investigator on this case, and she is most definitely not a traitor."

"Yes, because you're the expert on traitors. Isn't that right, Caspian?"

Something about that statement struck her as extremely odd, however she couldn't exactly interrupt a conversation she wasn't part of, even if they were speaking incredibly loudly.

"I'm sorry...I'm afraid I do not understand what you mean, Agent Cyan…"

"Of course you don't. Anyway, I have to go speak with our 'lead investigator' who _definitely _isn't working for the ring. Goodbye. Come back in three minutes."

Cyan turned and walked towards her with a half-smirk, half-scowl expression. She watched Caspian walk away distantly, returning to the vehicle in which they'd come.

"Hello, leader…of the smuggling ring. Nice notebook." Cyan snapped, aiming a digit at the mysterious journal.

"What exactly do you want, Agent Cyan? I have more important things to do than listen to your foolish and thoughtless accusations," she replied less-than-cordially.

"Really? And I have more important things to do than listen to you complain about me telling the _truth."_

There was a long, dead silence, and she had unfortunately run out of rude comments with which to reply to Cyan. Why was that agent speaking to her, anyway? Though she supposed…as long as said agent was in this location, a few questions could potentially be asked of them.

"Why exactly did you name Agent Caspian as an expert on traitors? What were you insinuating about him?" she questioned, wondering if Cyan actually shared her suspicions. The comment had certainly seemed to imply such a thing, though perhaps it would be something entirely different. Agent Lang might be considered an expert on traitors now, if that sort of viewpoint was considered.

"It was a joke, von Karma. Why, do you think he could be a traitor like you?"

She glared at Cyan. "I am not a traitor; however I do have some suspicions in Agent Caspian."

The agent's expression turned to a real smirk, as though her opinion had been at all amusing.

"Unfortunately for you, that is totally wrong. Annoyingly enough, Caspian wouldn't hurt a hive of wasps if it was about to attack him. I doubt he's ever even used his gun."

That seemed to her like a strange mindset for one working in Interpol, though she supposed it wasn't that difficult to believe. Perhaps the strange fact of what had occurred earlier had not been strange at all, but merely coincidence. Perhaps she was wrong to be suspicious of Caspian at all. She had, much to her chagrin, been incorrect about one or two presumptions in her lifetime.

"…Now that you've finished stating _your _random suspicions, I'm leaving. Do yourself a favor and don't waste your time accusing the only person who actually likes you." Cyan declared, then marched away as though she didn't deserve to be made roadkill by a large autobus.

She returned to her examination of the spare bullet casings, the ones extracted from the inside of the van she'd occupied, the ones that had just barely missed her in their tireless pursuit of exterminating life. Who had fired those shots? Who had been so heartless as to kill several number 1's and almost kill her?

"…_I shouldn't have expected that from you, Franziska. You're not that sort of person, and no one is going to change that."_

"…_Do yourself a favor and don't waste your time accusing the only person who actually likes you."_

Hmph. Whatever. She wasn't going to change her mind about that particular criminal.

"Excuse me, Miss von Karma?"

She turned to see Caspian, looking still as innocent as possible and carrying a thin manila envelope. She assumed that that was what he'd gone away to retrieve after his odd conversation with Cyan. She wondered what might be in it.

"I happened to find these documents, and I thought they might be of some use to you," he said, handing her the folder.

She extracted the papers from it and scanned them, expecting to see some sort of log of the progression of their investigation, or perhaps a document describing a piece of her missing evidence. Instead however, the papers were the meticulously detailed case notes of a certain defense attorney Jacob Baikal.

These papers had been in her locker. They had disappeared. And oddly enough- no, strange to the point that she could not ignore it…Caspian had returned them.

If that was not suspicious, nothing ever would be.

* * *

"_I think Agent Lang has had a sufficient naptime. I propose we wake him up."_

_He knew the voice, knew it perfectly down to every vowel and consonant, knew it to every word and sentence. And he knew enough to know that the phrase she had said made absolutely no sense at all. Was this some sort of dream? Even for a dream it seemed strange, impossible even. What was going on?_

"_Not yet. It will not be much longer…" hissed a dark, evil voice._

_Quercus Alba? No, that would make no sense. He would understand having a dream involving Shih-na, but not Quercus Alba. But was this a dream at all? And why could he not see either of the two speakers, or speak himself?_

"_What an idiot, attempting to stop the ring from reclaiming me…"_

_Amazing- she had appeared in this dream-like world simply to insult him more. How…predictable._

"_I would assume that being an idiot is normal behavior for this man. Is that correct, Yew?"_

_There was a short silence, in which he could imagine her smiling deviously the way she always did. Why could he not see anything?_

"_There was a moment…once, in six years in which he may have suspected me. And then he proceeded to completely ignore that suspicion and continue to trust me. So yes, that is absolutely normal behavior for him."_

_What was she talking about? What moment in which…oh. There had been a moment that he had seen something strange, something extremely suspicious and yet had dismissed it, presuming it to be some sort of misunderstanding. He had discussed it with her of course, but she had only stared at him innocently and sadly, as though surprised he would even hint at accusing her of such a thing. _

_But that wasn't important now._

"_I am concerned that there may be more to his motives than mere stupidity," Quercus Alba commented, "I presume you will not allow your personal feelings to intrude upon this? If you do, you will __**certainly-**__"_

"_My personal feelings are that this situation is positively hilarious. I have no intention of ever feeling anything else, especially not in the case of such an idiot."_

_This conversation did not seem like the sort his subconscious would create. Perhaps it was real after all, and he was hearing reality under the guise of a dream. Though if that was the case, why couldn't he-_

Wake up.

He awoke to find himself slumped in an uncomfortable chair, in some sort of cold, white room. There was a tiny window behind the chair at the top of the wall, but he saw nothing except darkness. There was another window next to him as well, which looked into the next room, almost an exact copy of the one he currently inhabited. There were other things in that room, but he was too preoccupied to observe and describe them.

To begin with, there was the question of where he currently was and how he had arrived there. He had vague recollections of…of being hit in the head with something, presumably the reason he'd been asleep or unconscious. But why? Was it…

They'd been ambushed. The smuggling ring had trapped the escort in an alley and begun to shoot, and he'd left the vehicle to prevent them from reclaiming Shih-na, but it had failed and they had taken him as well. That was what had happened. It was both reassuring and worrying to know the truth.

So, if he had been kidnapped by the smuggling ring, then the room he currently found himself in was probably a part of their 'secret hideout'. He had found it, at least…though entirely not in the way he would have wanted to.

Alright, so the next logical question was this- where had the voices he'd been hearing come from? There was no one else in the room with him, and the door was closed. He did see silhouettes through a small window in the door, though…could that be Shih-na and Quercus Alba? There was only one way to fin-

The door swung open and the exact two people he'd expected entered. Shih-na smiled at him, and Quercus Alba scowled. He stood quickly, wanting to appear on the same level as they were, even if it didn't seem to be true.

"It would seem that the tables have turned, Agent Lang…how does it feel to be the prisoner?"

He ignored Shih-na's condescending statement and turned straight to the leader of the ring.

"What do you want from me?" he stated, not at all questioningly.

"Well, to begin with…" Shih-na answered, "I would like five million dollars and a pony…"

He continued to glare at Quercus Alba, anticipating a real, unsarcastic answer.

"You do not yet understand, Lang, how useful you will be to us. You are already useful, in fact. Can you imagine the turmoil already created in Interpol after your disappearance? It will not be long before you are suspected of being a member of this smuggling ring…"

"Never. I would never be suspected of that."

"Really?" Shih-na asked, "Because I believe that when they receive a nice letter from you detailing how truly _evil _you are, they might begin to suspect…"

Before he could even think of a response, Alba spoke again.

"We unfortunately did not succeed in killing Franziska von Karma, however we did succeed in indicting Miles Edgeworth for the crime…I certainly hope he has serious consequences…no one succeeds in getting a person such as I convicted and then pays no punishment for it."

He wasn't entirely sure whether to be relieved or worried…the information simply continued to come at an unintelligible rate.

"Are you planning on forcing me to write some letter saying I'm in the ring?" he asked Shih-na, deciding to postpone the consideration of Alba's statement for a later time.

"Yes, for once you understand something quickly, Agent Lang… we might force you to write such a letter…or perhaps you should provide them with misinformation to cause further turmoil…perhaps we could even hold you for ransom…but I would much prefer them to think of you as a traitor. You could be just like me…"

"No way. You forcing me to do that _would _be betraying Interpol, and I don't do that. I never will, Shih-na. You already know I'd never submit to any kind of torture or threats."

"I am afraid that you will have no choice," Alba interrupted his conversation, "You are aware that the smuggling ring could possibly murder anyone on your investigation at any time…you might think of this as Prosecutor von Karma's life being in your hands…"

He was an idiot, certainly, but he was not so much of an idiot as to believe that.

"Yeah, right. It doesn't matter what I do, you'll be trying to kill her anyway. You said it yourself that you were trying to kill her during the ambush, so threatening me with her life won't work."

He felt himself smirking slightly, thinking that he had won, and so the next event was completely unexpected. Not only in this situation but never, ever would he have thought what happened to be remotely likely.

Quercus Alba turned and slapped Shih-na with military strength, knocking her slightly backwards into the wall. His eyes went wide in surprise, and he saw hers follow suit. That had not been planned. Whatever that had been, it had been created on the spot. But why? Why hurt Shih-na?

"Perfect. Exactly the sort of reaction I expected." Alba stated, looking back to him as though nothing had happened.

"…What?" he said, voice weak due to still being startled.

"That expression on your face, the horrified look you had when you bore witness to what occurred…that is exactly what I am striving for. Perhaps you could fight through your own personal pain and torture, but could fight through that of another? Particularly, of your former assistant?"

He stared at the ground, wondering why so many people seemed to bring up the supposed 'issue' he apparently had. Was it just the fact that he was still surprised from what had transpired a week before? That he hadn't expected it, and therefore wasn't quite accepting of it yet? Or was there some other reason?

Either way, Shih-na had just been injured, and Quercus Alba was awaiting some sort of response.

"I don't care. Do whatever you want to her. I don't care at all." He said, avoiding any sort of glance to the person he referred to. He had no desire to see the beginnings of some bruise, some mark that proved what had seemed to happen was actually real.

"Despite what you say, you do not seem very convinced yourself. I will allot you a period of time to consider your limited options. When I return, you will either do as we have requested, or you will pay the consequences...or should I say, your former assistant will."

Alba turned and made for the door, followed obediently by a remarkably less smiling/sarcastic Shih-na.

She turned back to him before closing the door- a pair of fuchsia eyes stared into his, as though expecting him to say something, but he remained silent. There was nothing to say that had not already been said, nothing that would assist him in leaving the horrid existence he now seemed to be trapped in.

The door slammed closed, and the world with it.


	9. Chapter 8

I felt I should have this written and posted as soon as I could, so here it is. The title is 'Crying Fire In An Uncrowded Interrogation Room'. I think my chapter titles are getting too descriptive. But anyway, this chapter is not hugely important except for the conversation at the end. I will try to write Chapter 9 as soon as possible. Thank you for the reviews.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters used, insulted, and subjected to serious dilemas in this fanfiction.

* * *

"The time is twenty-two hundred hours, this meeting will now commence," the Chief of Police stated simply, and took a seat at the far end of the table. It was the most she'd heard him speak since her arrival in Cohdopia- he had simply handed her a file of all information compiled, and then left to pursue other local cases. It was a surprise to her that he had taken such an interest in the current events transpiring.

"Why are we having this meeting? Didn't we _just _have one?" Cyan asked, as though being horribly annoying was not something that one grew tired of.

She wondered it herself as well though- why was this meeting occurring in the first place? Caspian had only told her that the Chief of Police had requested it, and not at all what it was about. Cyan was likely going to spew more ridiculous theories and overall make a nuisance of the entire investigation, but why was it necessary that everyone be there to hear? Nothing had transpired since the last meeting, if one factored out the small detail of Miles Edgeworth being taken away on charges of murder. And why was that important?

"I realize that this meeting is occurring at an inconvenient time, however it is probably the most beneficial for the investigation if we form some sort of plan for the future," Caspian said in a calming tone. She regarded him still with suspicion- he had given her Jacob Baikal's notes, evidence that had been stolen from her locker. That was too abnormal to be ignored.

"Here's a plan for you," Cyan snapped, "Catch the smuggling ring before they kill anyone else."

She turned to glare at the speaker, "Agent Cyan, if you continue to make rude and unhelpful remarks, I will not hesit-"

Cyan interrupted her, "Excuse me, Mr. Chief of Police? I have reason to believe that Miss _von Karma _here is working undercover for the smuggling ring. I think that something should be done about that."

"I am no-"she attempted to yell before being interrupted yet again by the chief.

"I do not agree, Interpol Agent Cyan. Miss von Karma was to be the prosecutor for the case against Mr. Quercus Alba, and that does not sound like the move of a traitor to me."

It was a relief to hear those words, though she obviously could have proven that by herself, had anyone allowed her to speak.

"Fine, don't believe me. But I was right about that other prosecutor. He turned out to be a murderer."

"Agent Cyan, with all due respect," Caspian began, "Evidence has surfaced that would indict Prosecutor Edgeworth of the crime, however he has not been formally charged yet, and there is still room for dou-"

"Oh yes, Caspian. _Definitely_ still room for doubt, considering his fingerprints are _all over _the murder weapon."

"There are-"

"Tell me, why are you so hesitant to believe the obvious? You didn't even believe that Agent Lang could be affiliated with the ring, even though all the evidence says he is…"

"Agent Lang is _not _a member of the smuggling ring!" she exclaimed, finally succeeding in speaking uninterruptedly, "You have absolutely no proof of that accusation, and it is highly repugnant of you to slander another Interpol agent, especially one of such high respect!"

"Actually, Miss von Karma," the chief began, "I agree with the suspicions of Agent Lang. The records show that his assistant of six years was a member of the smuggling ring and…something occurred…"

"He took a bullet for her. _After _it was revealed to everyone who she really was. If that doesn't say 'guilty', nothing else does," Cyan said.

She wondered for the nth time why Agent Lang had felt it necessary to do what he had done. It had only caused serious problems since the beginning of this case- and now they were problems that she would have to solve alone.

"I believe that what occurred may have simply been a lapse of judgment on the part of that agent…" Caspian said, "I do not believe that he would be affiliated with the smuggling ring at all, and that he has simply been kidnapped by them, and is not assisting their mission, whatever that may be."

"The _last _person who got 'kidnapped' by the ring turned out to be a member himself, so what exactly is the difference? Why don't you just admit it, Caspian? Right now you seem pretty suspect yourself."

What? Had Cyan just accused Caspian as well? That made absolutely no sense considering her conversation from earlier. Cyan had told her specifically that Caspian would never be involved in anything remotely illegal, and this went against that on all counts.

"Agent Cyan, I can assure you that I am not at all suspicious. I simply do not believe that Agent Lang is involved in this."

"I believe that he is."

The voice came from a particularly silent portion of the table- from the judge, in particular. She stared at him, waiting for some sort of elaboration.

"…It seems to me that the accusations against him are valid…they are certainly supported with facts, and I see nothing directly disproving them…Agent Caspian, I think that you are ignoring the truth…"

"Then it's settled," Cyan said, "3 to 2, since Miss von Karma seems to like majority rule so much. And besides, of the two people in the minority, one works for the ring and the other refuses to accuse _anyone _of _anything._"

"These acu-" she began to say, but again was interrupted.

"I do not think this meeting is accomplishing anything," the chief said, standing up, "I propose that it be postponed until these issues can be resolved. You are all free to go except…" he checked something on a clipboard, "Agent Caspian, I would like to speak with you outside."

She watched in anger as the others filed out of the room, and remained in such a state to the point where she did not wish to leave. There was something she unfortunately would have to do in the very near future, however at the moment it seemed like an even more undesirable option. She took out the notebook and flipped through it with the vague hope of finding useful information for once.

"…informed me of your situation, Agent Caspian. That must be a difficult role to play."

She halted in the middle of a sentence, realizing she was overhearing a conversation from outside the room. It was the chief's conversation with Caspian, but what were they talking about? A 'situation'?

"It is. Unfortunately, I'm afraid I do not have any important information for you…" his voice faded out and returned, "…still lack trust in me."

A lack of trust? What on earth was he talking about?

"…going to ask because you…with other agents. You seem to decline to…seemed almost suspicious to me but…"

"I am very loyal to Interpol…do not share opinions of my coworker…"

She rose and walked toward the door, hoping to overhear the large missing pieces of the conversation.

"Your coworker…seems strange. Are you sure…nothing about her? Maybe she…ring?"

Her plan did not seem to be working- the door was still obscuring important portions of their sentences, and it was difficult to reconstruct them. This sounded to be some sort of discussion about Cyan, maybe about the amount of false accusations that seemed to be originating from that agent.

"No, she does not. She merely…needs to accuse."

"I see. Keep me updated, Agent Caspian."

No! The conversation was ending before she could clearly decode its subject!

"I certainly will. Thank you for understanding."

She heard footsteps moving in opposite directions down the hall, a sure sign that she had missed her chance to find any sort of truth about Caspian or Cyan. What was she supposed to do now? She certainly could not share her suspicions of Caspian without more proof of such a thing, and even though the police chief seemed to trust her, she doubted that he would reveal what he had just been speaking about. It was simply a private conversation that she had overheard, and no one was going to tell her any important details. She was an outsider- a feeling she had not experienced before and was not a particular fan of.

So, this left her with no other options than to complete the undesirable but probably inevitable task. As much as she would have liked to do so, she could not ignore the situation forever. And perhaps the fool she was to go speak with had thought of a more believable story than the one he'd given.

She doubted it.

* * *

"Franziska," he stated, as though that was an appropriate explanation. She glared at him.

"I'm surprised that they would keep you in such an unguarded location, Miles Edgeworth, considering you shot a man in cold blood today."

Miles blinked at her. "Did you come here for any specific reason, or just to continue accusing me?"

"What exactly was your motive for joining the smuggling ring? Pure selfishness? Revenge?" she questioned, unsure of what she was attempting to uncover. But all criminals had to have a motive, correct? She had always wondered exactly what could drive a human being to do such a horrible deed, especially in…recent years. Other criminals, strangers would never tell her what the experience was like, and there were some people that she could never, would never ask. This might be the only real chance she would have to ask a non-stranger about the event.

"I do not have a motive, Franziska. I did not kill anyone, and I do not work for the smuggling ring."

Her fists clenched in anger. Why was he continuing to deny the accusations? Why didn't he just let her believe the evidence for once in her life? He was always doing this, always telling her there was some other meaning to being a prosecutor, and she refused to believe him. She would never accept whatever apparent 'answer' he'd come up with to terrorize her. She would never accept him, not even if she knew he was right.

"I can see that you are not planning to believe me, so what was your reason for coming here?" he asked calmly.

"Do you…have any other explanations?" she asked, voice strained.

He sighed. "No, I do not. The explanation I gave earlier was the truth, and I believe there is some sort of proof that will eliminate me as a suspect."

"There is not," she snapped.

"The police have not finished processing the crime scene, there is still evidence that has not yet been found."

"And you really believe that that evidence will somehow exonerate you as a suspect, Miles Edgeworth?"

He sighed. "Yes, I do believe that. And I would also prefer it if you would desist in using my full name constantly."

She glared fiercely at the metal table and remained silent.

"…Why are you so violently opposed to trusting me, Franziska? You know very well that I would never murder another human being, and so you have no reason to lack confidence in me."

She did _not _know that. Even if she had, there was still nothing to disprove her accusation. And if she had learned one thing in her entire life, it was that humans could be a truly horrible species, killing anything that stood in their way to become the best, the most successful.

Was that her? Was she on the verge of doing that? Of becoming like-

She interrupted her own line of thought, "Whatever. I had the misfortune of speaking with Scruffy, who you will be _overjoyed _to hear thinks that you are innocent. Kay Faraday seemed to be there as well, and gave the impression that she plans to come to Allebahst and participate in the investigation, as though that is even possible." The teenager _had _used the word 'we' as though she were a part of this case.

"Thank you for doing that, Franziska. I was under the impression that you would not," he said, smirking. She glared at him.

"I will not do you any sort of favor again. You will have to find someone else if you want to further keep in contact with that detective," she snapped, angered that she had been tricked into helping him.

"I understand. How is the investigation progressing?" Miles asked, as though it could be of any importance to him. He acted as though he was not working for the smuggling ring at all- how irritating.

"Agent Cyan continues to make slanderous comments at every occasion. I am considering requesting she be taken off the case."

He blinked at her. "I don't think that fighting fire with fire is ever a good idea, Franziska."

_Fire?_

That was it. That was the answer. He claimed that there would be some evidence to show that he had not committed the crime, and that was it. Unfortunately, he had been correct. Again.

She stood forcefully, knocking the chair backwards a few feet, and then marched to the door.

"Is something wrong?"

Ignoring him, she slammed the door shut, turned, and walked hurriedly in the direction of the possible truth.

* * *

She had a good enough understanding of the building's layout to know where the coroner's office was, and directed toward that area with a vague idea of what she was looking for. If she did not find it, it meant that her theory had been wrong and the horrible explanation Miles had come up with was actually the truth. And if she found it at the coroner's office, nothing would change at all. It would give her theory even more proof, actually.

She wasn't completely sure whether she wanted to find it or not. But she would have to hear the truth eventually, and it was probably better for the investigation if she found out sooner rather than later. And it would not take a significant amount of time, so she could see no reason to not check now.

"You have been acting strangely."

The voice was loud, unusually loud, and came from behind the door of a room she was passing by. Again, it was _still _not her business to eavesdrop on another conversation; however this statement struck her as an odd thing to hear. She stopped by the door and listened.

"Yes. I'm not entirely convinced you can be trusted."

She deduced that there were probably three people in the discussion, though the door obscured any distinguishing features of their voices. Perhaps though, it was someone she knew?

"I am sorry, but this is very complicated. I cannot tell everyone the truth immediately…" whoever it was, they talked far too quietly for her to decipher their entire sentence. "…on their own."

"And then?"

She strained to hear what was being said, and wished desperately that no police officer would walk down the hallway and force her to flee the area. But considering the time, that was probably unlikely.

"I need them to…trust me." They had said something else in the middle of the statement, but it sounded like pure gibberish. Why couldn't this fool speak louder so that she could clearly eavesdrop on them?

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, of course. But, as you know, you have always been able to trust me. I know which side I am on…may have received."

Received what! What was this conversation, and who exactly was having it! Perhaps she could simply enter the room, pretending she was confused and had thought this was the coroner's office, but…that was probably an excuse too flimsy to work. Still though, she had to find out what this was. It reminded her eerily of something she had seen before, something that had had this same tone to it…what was it?

The email. That was it- the email she had seen on that computer earlier today. She did not remember the exact wording, but the subject had been quite similar.

"Just make sure you know who you are trying to…this might turn out…for you."

"I assure you, I'm not…you can trust me."

Silence. There was not a single word more, and she heard muffled footsteps approaching the door, as though they knew she was there. Quickly, and as noiselessly as possible, she raced down the hallway, turning back at the end to see if the door had opened and those in the conversation had exited. But the hallway was silent and empty.

Something was going on, and unless she resorted to desperate measures, she would not find out anything until it was too late.

* * *

What were they planning to do, bore him to death? He had been sitting in absolute, perpetual silence for what seemed like the last _hour,_ though considering he had no clock, probably only thirty minutes. There was nothing to do except sit in the rickety chair and plot escape.

There was no way out. The window that led to the outside was made of glass that was probably breakable if he smashed the chair into it, but the frame was far too small for him to fit through even if he did. The door was locked tight. It would take at least ten men of his pack to break it down, and even if he did the ring would catch him before he could figure out where he was. The second window, the one that overlooked the room next door seemed to be made of a thicker glass, and didn't appear to have an exit either. In it, there was only another probably locked door, another tiny window, and another rickety chair. And a shadowed figure who had been there, motionless for as long as he'd been watching. Whoever the figure was, they didn't seem to be in a very good condition. But there was nothing he could really do about that.

Still, there had to be some escape from his situation, something that didn't involve smashing windows with chairs or a lot of number 1's. And something that didn't involve writing a letter proclaiming his evilness to Interpol. That was out of the question.

Maybe the way out could be found if he figured out what the ring was after. It seemed like their general purpose was to confuse and distract those investigating the case in order to accomplish something else. It was still unclear what exactly that was, but it was probably something important enough to attempt to kill several people and indict others of crimes. And if they were attempting to eliminate those who were a serious threat to the smuggling ring, wouldn't they kill him as well? Or were they going to manipulate him first?

Either way, it was clear that he could not give in, could not allow himself to serve their purpose. No matter what they did to him, or…it seemed, what they did to Shih-na.

Why? Why had that happened? It hadn't been planned, he knew that much, and Shih-na had not seemed particularly thrilled with the outcome, and he doubted she was feeling especially loyal to the ring now. What if he could convince her to abandon the ring? Or better yet, free him from this makeshift prison he appeared to be trapped in?

Right. That was _definitely _likely to happen. Shih-na was a traitor- no…Shih-na herself was not a traitor, but the person pretending to be her was. He wondered who Quercus Alba was actually hurting when he'd hit her. Shih-na or…what was he supposed to call her? Calisto Yew? Either w-

The door unlocked quietly and opened. He stood again on instinct, expected the leader of the smuggling ring to have returned for his answer. It was not.

"Sit down. You will not be going anywhere, Agent Lang," she said, not looking at him.

He returned to his seat, less out of obedience and more out of having nothing else to do.

"Why are you here, Shih-na?" he asked, eyes automatically drawn to the bruise on her cheek. What was Quercus Alba expecting to happen?

"To find out what course of action you plan to take."

That was odd- he would have expected a few dozen sarcastic comments first, before she actually addressed the real issue. How unnatural.

"What do you mean?"

"It doesn't matter when you surrender, be it now or later, but know this- Quercus Alba will find a way to destroy you, be it through hurting me, or some other method. You claimed that you would never surrender to any kind of torture, but somehow I doubt that," she whispered, walking towards him as though she were about to pull out a knife and stab him with it. He regarded her warily.

"What is the ring planning, Shih-na? Why are you trying to distract Interpol?" he said quickly, changing the subject.

She smiled forcedly. Not sarcastically, but the same way she had on the night she'd been revealed. A fake smile.

"Now why would I tell you that? You are the enemy…"

"I'll find out eventually, whether you want me to or not. And there are still Interpol agents who can figure out what you're planning and stop you. Just getting rid of me and trying to kill a few people doesn't stop Agent Cyan or Caspian from-"

He stopped. Shih-na was laughing hysterically- not a forced laugh, a real one.

"What is it?" he snapped, dreading whatever explanation she gave.

"It's…" she paused for a moment and took a breath, "…you are so adorably naïve, Agent Lang. Really, I can see why you didn't figure me out for six years…you always want to believe the best in people, don't you? You want to trust everyone." She continued laughing, less sweetly and more menacingly. He stared at her in vague horror.

"What are you saying?" He felt as though he'd asked her this question before, and the results had been less than pleasant. He doubted that would change this time around.

"You always underestimate the criminals…" Shih-na said, seemingly composing herself, "You never noticed…but Caspian…he is exactly like I used to be…" She turned and walked toward the door.

"_What!"_ He rose from the chair with more force than necessary, comprehending what she had said.

"…He seems to be a perfectly innocent Interpol agent…but he actually works for the smuggling ring," she opened the door and turned back to face him, "I'm very disappointed that you did not figure this out sooner…but I suppose you never change. Once an idiot, always an idiot."

The door slammed shut. He stared at it, wishing he could turn back time-not just a day, but six years.

Too late.


	10. Chapter 9

...My sincere apologies for taking so incredibly long to post. I did not do as well on this chapter, but I will have much more time to work this week. Thank you for your patience, and to Indochine Ramera and PXLight for reviewing. Other readers, I appreciate your thoughts as well- so review.

Anyway, the title is 'A Few Nightmarish Hours Pass', and involves two nightmares. I was looking forward to writing this because nightmares are epic (except when they are my own and usually involve me stabbing random strangers). But my psychotic subconcious aside, here is the chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters.

* * *

The lighting in the autopsy room was unusually bright and artificial, as though attempting to compensate for the many dead bodies it contained. Of course, a dead body was what she had come to see, and she wasn't planning to stay long, cheery lighting or no. The dead body of presumably a number 1 lay on the autopsy table, and a short man with graying hair stood over him, polishing a knife. It was the coroner, no doubt.

"Excuse me," she began with a wary glance at the corpse, "I am F-"

The coroner looked up, jumped slightly, and then grinned.

"Are you one of the interns I'm supposed to have? Why, they get younger and younger…and you're here so late! It's almost twenty three hundred hours and you still want to observe and autopsy…that takes dedi-"

She stopped the confused man before he could say anything even more ridiculous. "No, I am not an intern. I am Prosecutor Franziska von Karma, and I need the information from one of your recent autopsies."

The coroner adjusted his glasses and squinted at her.

"Are you sure? You're too young for that…yes, definitely the age of one of my interns…"

"I _am_ a prosecutor, and I need the information. It is of…some minor importance," she said, mentally assessing what would occur if she did not find what she was looking for. It would, unfortunately, put Miles Edgeworth back on the case. But maybe she would find it- the results of that would be far better.

"Oh, don't joke with me…you must be only nineteen…"

"Yes, however I do not see why that would make it any less likely for me to be a prosecutor. Now, if you could give me the autopsy results fr-"

"A prosecutor at nineteen? That is remarkable…very remarkable…what results do you need, Prosecutor von Karma?"

She was almost unaccustomed to being called that…that was her father's title, not hers. And she was….different from her father, correct? She was not him, and would not be him in the future, despite having learned every single court tactic from him, and trying to follow in his perfect footsteps. She would not turn into a murderer…at least, that was what she hoped, even though the possibility plagued her.

No matter. "There was an Interpol agent traveling in the third vehicle of the recent escort to a maximum security prison. He was shot in the head and the weapon was located. Do you have the information from that autopsy?"

"Why…I believe that's this man here…I was just about to do an autopsy on him…what do you need to know?"

She paused, knowing that this would be the defining moment. Whatever she found or didn't find would determine the guilt or innocence of someone she really would have preferred to remain guilty. What was the answer?

"_**I don't think that fighting fire with fire is ever a good idea, Franziska."**_

"Can you determine at what distance the shot was fired from?" she asked. The coroner hunched, examined the wound under a magnifying glass, dabbed a swab at it, and looked back at her.

"Well...in terms of gunpowder burn- you know what gunpowder burn is, correct?"

"Of course I do. That is the reason I am here," she said impatiently.

"Good. So, there is no gunpowder burn, meaning that he was shot from more than a meter away. I would say not much farther than that. So, it couldn't have been, say, someone in the passenger's seat- that would have been too close."

She looked away with a slight tint of anger. Apparently, Miles Edgeworth had been telling the truth after all- how irritating. Now she would have to tell the police, and he would be released from custody and free to investigate as though nothing had even happen. And she hadn't managed to discover anything vitally important in his absence, only increase her suspicions of Caspian.

"Does that help you?" the coroner asked.

"No," she snapped, "It does not. You did however; just prove another person not guilty."

He laughed. "It sounds like you don't like this person too much…you don't seem so happy about that."

She stared at him wordlessly, thinking of nothing to say to such an odd character.

"Well, remember that life is short. You shouldn't waste your time and energy disliking others."

What? Who was he to say what she should do with her time? And since when was disliking others who _deserved _to be disliked a waste of time? She was perfectly content to hate others, particularly Miles Edgeworth.

"Whatever. Continue with the autopsy, and report your findings to the police," she said, exiting the room and shutting the door behind her. She was not in need of any more ridiculous advice.

It had become slightly late, and she supposed there was nothing more that could be accomplished that day by staying at the Bureau of Investigation. She had, however, become aware of several important things in the development of the investigation. To begin with, the smuggling ring was far more capable than she had originally expected, and was capable of conducting a complicated ambush to reclaim a member and kidnap an important Interpol agent. And obviously, they must have had some sort of mole that had informed them of when the escort would be leaving and what path it would be taking, or they would not have known how to strike. Someone was a traitor. But who?

Her main suspicion was currently Caspian. Undeniable cordiality aside, his behavior was odd and suspect. After all, he had arrived at the scene of the ambush in less than a minute after it occurred, and had later that day had given her the trial notes of Jacob Baikal, evidence that had disappeared from her locker and had not been seen since. And then, there was also the fact that unlike his fellow agent, the Chief of Police, and the judge, he did not believe that Agent Lang was a member of the ring. Certainly, she did not believe it because she actually _knew _Agent Lang; however the others barely knew him and therefore had nothing to base their opinions on. It was odd that Caspian had such a different opinion, and though she didn't quite understand _how _that proved him to be in the ring, it was still something to make a note of. She did not trust him at all.

It was strange that Cyan had at first claimed to be completely unsuspicious of Caspian, and then seemed to accuse him later in the meeting. She could potentially ask the agent for a real opinion, but doubted she would get any sort of satisfactory answer. Another possibility, however, would be to ask the opinion of Judge Wellington. He seemed to be involved in the case and to know Caspian, so perhaps he could shed some light on the subject. She made a note to ask him the next day. In the mean time though, there was nothing to do but return to her hotel and attempt to fall asleep, if that was even possible with the events that were transpiring.

* * *

_It was a small office, vaguely illuminated by fragments of the moon that entered through the open window. Why was it open? Had he forgotten to close it? He would be here for a while regardless, so it wasn't as though it particularly mattered. There were documents that needed to be read, research that needed to be done before he could consider leaving the headquarters._

_He turned on the lights. After all, how was he to work if he could barely se-_

_Shih-na stared at him. He stared back._

"…_Hello," she said quietly. _

_Her fingers hovered over the page of some document she had apparently been reading in the low light. A file cabinet was open, and folders were strewed across an area of the floor- haphazardly, as though there'd been no rhyme or reason for their placement. It was the first mess he had ever seen in the office since acquiring an assistant. He felt a blunt sense of confusion._

"_Why are you here so-" he stopped, eyes returning to the papers. An unfamiliar canvas bag rested on the floor, containing several manila envelopes and file folders. "What are you doing?"_

_She was silent, seeming to regard him absently._

"_Shih-na?" he asked again. What was that canvas bag? The files in it had to be from the cabinet, but it wasn't his- it had to be Shih-na's. Why would she be taking something from the office? And why was she there in the first place?_

"…_I noticed I had made serious errors in the filing system, and I thought it would be best to remedy them as soon as possible, Agent Lang…" She said, eyes returning to the paper she'd been reading._

_Somehow, she was inspiring a strong sense of dread in him, something he was unaccustomed to feeling and could see no logical reason for. After all, she was only adjusting the files, correct? She had a perfectly good reason to be in the office, and it was considerate of her to solve the problem at an unconventional time- it would normally not have interfered with his work._

_That said, though…why had the lights been out? Certainly, she was probably capable of reading documents without it, but the fact that they were off gave a subtle surreptitious quality to her actions. It was highly uncharacteristic of him to see it, but something about this encounter was odd. Something about the particular facts seen together in such a picture brought an overwhelming sense of fear and doubt seeping into his mind. And that never happened._

_This was stupid. He was only imagining things, and he knew Shih-na far too well to ever suspect her of anything at all. She was the perfect assistant, and he wasn't so cynical as to believe phrases like 'too good to be true'. The truth was what it was, perfect or indescribably ugly. It was merely fortunate for him that it had turned out to be a good truth._

"_I never noticed anything before…" he said, walking forward for a closer observation of the files. Honestly, he rarely paid attention to their existence, and probably would not have noticed if half of them disappeared, but still- he wondered what was wrong. "Do you need help?"_

"_No thank you…" she said quietly, eyes still flitting back and forth across the page. He felt unignorable dread for a moment- an evanescent thought, but unignorable nonetheless. What was wrong with him? Never before had he felt an emotion like fear- or perhaps…suspicion around Shih-na, and he had no real reason to now._

_He stared at the ground, eyes locating the canvas bag of unknown origin and purpose. He lifted it, and extracted the folders. They were blue- cold cases, mysteries that had existed, then slowly faded away without being solved. The information had never lost its value though, and occasionally when another seemingly unsolvable case appeared, it was that information that sometimes solved it. The grand majority of crime syndicates were unraveled that way, and he was certain there would be more in the future. _

_He opened the first file, finding inside a report about a string of art thefts and black market dealings. He remembered this. A year before cases such as this one had begun, and it was becoming clear that a crime syndicate far greater than any he'd dealt with before was coming to power. Like some sort of…smuggling ring, perhaps. It would probably not be long before he was put full time on that issue, and maybe Shih-na had realized it too? Though…the information in any file was never to be taken away unless for a specific case, and so the placement of the files in a canvas bag, as though they were to be taken away…was odd and prohibited._

_Why would Shih-na have reason to remove a file anyway? He glanced briefly at her, then opened the second file._

_More information on art thefts. More information on illegal, underhanded dealings. Important information at that- the kind that should be protected and not taken away._

_The third file consisted of that as well- and the fourth, and all the files, for that matter. They all seemed to tie back to the idea that such a crime syndicate existed, and he was certain it was not chance that they all happened to be in the canvas bag. After all, nothing had yet been proposed regarding this, and so the fact that Shih-na had already compiled such a collection of information on it was…impressive, to say the least._

_But the fact that she was prepared to take it away disturbed him. A lot._

"_Shih-na…" he began, waiting for her response. She seemed to nod. "What are you doing?" he asked again, far more questioningly. His heart raced._

"_As I said before…I wanted to correct errors I had made in the filing system…" she said, not even glancing up. What was she reading? More documents to take aw-_

_He stopped thinking. He wasn't the sort of person who would irrationally jump to conclusions of this nature. He would ask her first._

"_Why are you sorting out all the information on that crime ring?" he asked bluntly._

_She was motionless. "What do you mean?"_

_Without understanding what was happening, he walked forward, snatched the papers she was reading from her hands, and stared at her coldly._

"_Shih-na, look at me. Are you telling the truth?"_

_The fear returned, this time with an overpowering sense of despair. Something was wrong, and if it was some sort of horrible reality, a truth that might ruin everything…did he really want to know?_

_Of course. He had to know. He couldn't tolerate anyone being a…_

_A __**traitor.**__ Of all the insults he could ever think to give a person- that was the absolute worst._

_She looked up, wearing a mask of innocent confusion. "Yes…is something wrong?" _

"_Are you…taking these files somewhere?" he said, unable to directly accuse her of anything. He watched her eyes widen slightly as he held up the canvas bag._

"…_I was sorting the files, and I thought it would be…more convenient to separate some files while I did that…" the pauses in her speech were unnatural, her smile forced. He hadn't realized it, but he was holding his breath for some reason._

"_Any reason it happens to be all files on that crime ring?"_

_He watched a different sort of fear come over her face, but what was she afraid of? Being discovered for…something? Or was she afraid of him? Showing fear was so horribly…uncharacteristic of her. His heart continued to race, despite having no oxygen._

"_I wasn't attempting to do that, nor would I have taken any files away…I do not understand why you are acting strangely…have I done somet-"_

"_I'll ask again, Shih-na. Are you telling me the truth?"_

_Silence. She looked away, face suddenly etched with some sort of extreme…disappointment. What was she not saying? What was really occurring in this situation, in the middle of the night when evil lurked around every corner, was Shih-na…__**could **__Shih-na ever be involved?_

"…_Then you do not trust me?" she whispered._

_He felt as though he had been shot. Her words sunk into him with the stinging sensation of pain, with the feeling that by asking these questions, he was betraying __**her. **__She had only been trying to do her job, and he had seen a few facts amiss and forgotten how much he trusted Shih-na. With his life. She would never do anything remotely illicit, would never even associate with the side of evil. He could not simply forget that over a few moments of confusion- really, was he insane? What was wrong with him?_

"…_Yes. I do." He said in the same whisper, and was greeted with silence. "I'm…sorry. I shouldn't have been suspicious of you, Shih-na." he said forcedly, starting to breathe for the first time in what seemed like a minute. This was one of the most frightening conversations he had ever had, and he could not understand why._

_She looked at him again, eyes wide and emotionless, saying absolutely nothing. She understood though, didn't she? He had had a moment of pure insanity, and nothing like this would ever happen again. He had no reason to doubt her._

"…_Thank you." she said, smiling vaguely. He tried to smile back, another silence falling. He could think of nothing else to say, and though his first instinct would have been to turn and start cleaning up the many file folders that littered the floor, for some reason he did not. He had absolutely no thoughts at all, and remained completely frozen._

_And perhaps he was still insane, because he stayed in that state as Shih-na raised a knife into his field of vision. It glittered brilliantly in the moonlight- beautiful and extremely deadly. What was she about to do? And if it was truly what it seemed like, why was he not running or fighting back?_

_He felt the cold steel slit his throat, and woke up._

* * *

It was a dream. That was the reason he could not run, could not possibly control what he did- he was living in a dream. Of course, everything that had occurred in that dream had been real once, except for the portion involving the knife…however, it was a dream nonetheless. He felt horribly ill- perhaps it was seeing those events again and knowing how incredibly idiotic he had been for missing those clues, for ignoring them...why couldn't he have realized this soo-

"What are you proposing, exactly?"

The voice was muffled through the door, but it was still a voice he could recognize immediately. Shih-na was speaking with someone outside, and perhaps he could hear or see who she spoke to. He stood shakily from the chair and went to the locked door. Unfortunately, he could not see anyone or anything from the view the window offered. There was always the option of smashing it out, but that would probably attract an unnecessary amount of attention- he would have to make due.

"He is a tyrant, clearly you can see that. Is he not the person who did that to you?" the stranger said; voice too muffled to pick up a single identifying feature. He knew though, that if they were speaking to Shih-na, they must have been referencing the bruise, and therefore Quercus Alba. So the voice was not the leader of the ring, he knew that much.

"I can imagine that your plan would be difficult to execute though…and if it were completed, what would occur?" Shih-na asked. He felt as though he'd missed an important piece of this conversation- namely, the main point.

"…Naturally, things would change…they would be the way that they should be, and I have no doubts in your abilities."

Her ability to what? To guilt-trip him into believing every word she said? And now, to say nothing but sarcastic remarks in a sickeningly sweet tone? To change personalities and lives with the ease of a star actress?

His heart sank for a moment, and he continued listening.

"I will…consider it and speak with you later."

"…Understood."

There was a long, eerie silence, and he assumed the stranger had left. He would unfortunately not discover what the topic of conversation had been at this very moment; however there had to be a way to find out. It did not sound like a typical conversation two members of a crime syndicate would have about their evil leader. Not that he was any sort of expert, but the truth remained.

He heard footsteps approaching his room, and his immediate instinct was to leave the view of the window. He returned the rickety chair and faked an appearance of being asleep, on the off chance the person passing by happened to look in. If they saw him awake, whoever it was would probably attempt to enter and speak with him, and there was a high probability that it would be Shih-na. He did not want to speak to her at the moment, not after that dream/remembrance. He began counting down from sixty, assured that it would be enough time for the footsteps to pass. But they only grew louder and stopped abruptly. Someone was watching him.

At twenty seconds left, he heard coughing through the glass window on the wall- it was no doubt coming from the figure in the room next door. So far, he had not seen them do anything but remain motionless, and so this was a surprise. He heard the footsteps retreat, and thought it safe to open his eyes.

He was not sure the identity or status of the figure in that next room, however they did not sound to be in a particularly healthy state, and as he was beginning to feel curiosity, he approached the window. The figure continued to cough heavily, and he searched for a weak point on the glass. He could possibly break it, with the correct amount of force, and was preparing to when much louder footsteps sounded in the hallway outside. There was another person approaching, and they seemed to possess a serious amount of force- perhaps it wa-

The door swung open, and he stood out of habit to see the two visitors. He watched in silence as Quercus Alba shoved Shih-na into the room, stepped in himself, and closed the door as to eliminate any chance of escape. Shih-na stared at him as she had before in that memory, but on this occasion he could see a trace of anger in her face. He looked away, focusing on the leader of the ring instead.

"Listen carefully, you silly, helpless Interpol agent…" Alba spat, glaring, "The room you currently inhabit is monitored by camera, and if you show any _hint _of attempting an escape, you will be stopped."

Had he been attempting to escape? Not really, no…he was only trying to enter the next room- which was probably locked anyway as well. Though if the rooms were monitored, that would mean Quercus Alba- or perhaps another member- was aware that Shih-na had revealed something important about the ring. Namely, the fact that Agent Caspian was a part of it. It didn't seem to him as the sort of thing to be casually told to prisoners, and he wondered if there had been consequences for it.

"Having said that…" Alba continued, "Have you decided whether to cooperate with us yet? I assure y-"

"No," he said immediately. "I'm not planning on cooperating with you. Ever."

The leader of the ring aimed a gun at his head, face twisted into a demonic scowl.

"You will cooperate. _Now."_

He stared at the weapon, wondering if he could somehow dodge the bullet before it hit him, and if Alba would shoot multiple times- that would make it more difficult to remain alive. Perhaps if he had a weapon of sorts, he could create a distraction long enough to take the gun. He feigned a look of nervousness, stepped backwards and place a hand on the chair. It was light enough to fling across the room, and would probably stop Alba for at least a few seconds.

"I said _now._" Alba's finger tightened on the trigger. He wouldn't have enough time at this rate if he said no. What was he supposed to do? Maybe if he pretended he would cooperate, the gun would disappear and he would have the time to a-

"This is not going to work," Shih-na said quietly. He turned to stare at her, but she didn't look back.

"_What _will not work?" Alba questioned angrily.

"…He would not betray his own side even at gunpoint, and if you shoot him we will be unable to use him for our plans- therefore kidnapping him would have had no point, wouldn't you agree?"

The leader of the ring lowered his gun in abject annoyance, apparently agreeing. He was horribly confused- was Shih-na helping him or not? Probably not. However she had at least eliminated a worrisome situation, if only out of logical thinking.

"You will be cooperating soon enough, and your precious Interpol will be unable to save you before then. After all...Franziska von Karma will die tomorrow, and that will cause serious turmoil within the organization. It will not be long before the investigation begins to fall apart…"

"Like I said before- if you're trying to kill her anyway, you can't exactly threaten me with her life."

"I was not. However I can assure you…you will soon cooperate with us. There is no such thing as an invincible person, and you have weaknesses that can be easily exploited."

He stared at Quercus Alba, as though waiting to see those supposed weaknesses exploited, even though he already knew what would occur. Again, there must have been some slight tremor in his expression earlier, something that had been interpreted to mean he was affected. Was he?

No, he was not. Never. The weakness Alba believed that he had was completely untrue and nonexistent. Maybe it _had _existed at one time, but it would not anymore- not when there were things far more important than his past emotions to consider.

"I don't care what you do, I won't cooperate." The words sounded foreign, as though he wasn't thinking of them or believing in them. But all that mattered was that he convinced Alba- he could try to convince himself later.

"Unfortunately for you, I am sure that you will care very much. It has already been proven that you will…" Alba said, raising the gun a second time and firing. He flinched slightly, and noticed the shot had not been aimed at him at all, but rather three inches above Shih-na's head. It was exactly the same intent Alba had had before, only this time it seemed the consequences would be slightly more deadly.

"…On that note, I will leave you to think about the person whose fate currently resides in your hands. Good_night._"

The leader of the smuggling ring opened the exited, followed distantly by his former assistant. She kept her head down- angrily perhaps- and avoided his gaze. The entire situation struck him as odd.

To begin with, how could Quercus Alba risk killing an important operative so carelessly? And for that matter, why decide to threaten him by hurting Shih-na? Certainly, there had to be other ways to force a prisoner to do something that would be tried first- like exposing a subject to an unbearably painful poison, or cutting their wrists and allowing them to slowly bleed into submission. Why would the first resort be to hurt…a person he may at one time have cared about? What was in it for Quercus Alba?

It would probably take time to understand completely, but he did know one thing. Shih-na was being punished for something. Something serious.

* * *

_The van smashed into the wall in slow motion, throwing her back into the passenger's seat and unfortunately out of reach of the airbag. Tiny glass fragments rained through the air, and she felt as though unconsciousness would soon be unavoidable. If she had only thought logically before stepping on the accelerator pedal, she might have been chasing the smuggling ring instead of falling victim to a silly mistake. How had she been so foolish?_

_The door opened suddenly, for no reason she could potentially think of. She had seen Agent Lang being taken away by the ring, that could not have been a figment of her imagination. But what if it was? After all, if the other ring members had left, who else would there be to open the door? She lifted her head as quickly as possible from the dashboard to see._

"_Well, von Karma. I can't say I expected you to be such a horrible driver…but then again, maybe that's not such a surprise after all. Your reasoning skills aren't any better," Cyan said, attaching a seatbelt and attempting to make the airbag deflate faster. _

"_Why are you here?" she managed to snap, though her voice sounded distant and underwater._

_The agent laughed annoyingly. "Really, what does it seem like? Obviously, we're kidnapping you too." _

_She spent a moment wondering who 'we' entailed, and a second moment realizing she needed to exit the vehicle as soon as possible. But the passenger's side door was locked, and she was almost immediately prevented from unlocking it._

"_Caspian- the handcuffs, please."_

_That solved the first mystery of who 'we' was. Cyan grabbed her wrist before she could think to move, and handcuffed it to a handle on the ceiling. There would be no future escape from this car, not unless she wanted to leave an arm behind. There was only one plan she could think of that might work, and though it was not a plan she wanted to execute, there was no other hope. As the van backed away from the brick wall and began to turn, she looked out the open window and yelled the name of an annoying prosecutor. _

"_Don't bother." Cyan said, "It's too late." _

_The third vehicle from the escort was gone, as though it had never been there in the first place- impossible, but true nonetheless. Reality was no longer on her side. She was completely alone._

_She had meant to memorize the route to wherever she was being taken, however the passage of time seemed to jolt by, and the van stopped in front of a large building in half a second. It was a tall complex, like a type of office building but appearing uninhabited. She had seen it several times before in the city, and it did not surprise her that this would be some sort of headquarters of the ring. Cyan unlocked the restraints attached to the van, and though she left the vehicle as quickly as possible in the hope of escape, she was met by Caspian and a firearm. There was __**still **__no escape. It did confirm her suspicions, at least, that Caspian really was a traitor to Interpol. As though that was something to be happy about._

_The inside of the building appeared significantly more inhabited, and though she would have expected at least some organization, the headquarters was organized to the point of being horrifying. Ring members worked at desks and took phone calls, as though it was a normal office building and not a completely illegal operation. In fact, the only clue that it was illegal was the people sitting at tables creating detailed forgeries of artwork. That was the only thing that stopped the ring from being a technology corporation- maybe that was the reason they had evaded the police for so long._

_Jacob Baikal looked at her from a desk and smiled slightly, still quickly scribbling in a notebook below his fingers. She almost screamed at the sight, and had to resist the urge to ask him how he could stand to be such a horrid traitor. Of course, she could be asking the same of Cyan and Caspian. How could Interpol accidently admit two other criminals in disguise? Hadn't one been enough to make them realize their security procedures needed to be more…secure?_

_In addition to that, where was Agent Lang? The ring had taken him as well, and he should therefore have arrived only slightly before she had, meaning he would still be in this part of the building. She could not see him anywhere though, and was hurriedly pushed down the hallway by a constantly impatiently fake Interpol agent. Perhaps she could attempt a resistance, but it seemed futile considering the large amounts of people she would have to fight off if she did. Especially since she seemed to be completely alone in th-_

"_Franziska?"_

_She stared at the fool, who stood on the other side of the room she had just entered. He was not, as she might have hoped, an evil smuggling ring member, but instead appeared to be in her exact situation. Judge Wellington aimed a gun at his head, and smiled furtively upon seeing her. She cringed, realizing what was about to happen. She would be forced to betray her own side, to do the bidding of criminals- and she was not a criminal. A prosecutor was someone who punished the criminals, not became one themselves. She would never be that sort of person, not under any threat._

_But oddly enough, Wellington fired then, presumably killing Miles Edgeworth. How unusual. It was not what she would have ever expected. After all, if they could kill him so easily, then it would be no struggle to-_

_Kill her. She felt the bullet sink into her heart, and her brain clear of all thoughts. She would die in a minute, perhaps less, and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it. Time would halt, and she would be dead before ever putting a stop to the smuggling ring. She had failed everything- but even so, it was better than being a criminal. Somehow, she would have preferred to die without a chance rather than make the sort of choice certain…other people she knew had._

_In reality, however, it was not over. From her point of view, she could see in perfect clarity an image of Caspian shooting Cyan, and then Wellington. It made absolutely no sense, however. Why wou-_

* * *

Why would a member of the ring risk killing, or directly kill another member? No one on the same side could possibly be so divided, could they?

Wait. No, what was she thinking? Everything had been a dream, just some awful nightmare that now was over. There was no meaning behind it, nothing to drag her into reverie and force her to draw false conclusions. She still had no proof that Caspian was involved in the ring, and had no suspicions of Cyan and Wellington of being anything but rude and silent, respectively. There was nothing in that dream that had been remotely true, nothing that would ever be a prediction of the future. Dreams were lies. They had been and always would be, and they were no subtle indication of the thoughts of her subconscious, only the fact that she needed to take on less nightmarish cases. This was a prediction of nothing, and was only a fragile lie. And the truth, the truth she would have liked to avoid so much was this: something was going to happen. Perhaps it was not the nightmare she had fabricated, but instead something entirely different. Something much, much worse.

And like a tiny flame approaching a large amount of dynamite, her time to stop it was burning away.


	11. Chapter 10

This is Chapter 10- Come Over To The Light Side. I apologize for the wait and the freakishly long nature of this chapter. I will attempt to be more concise in future chapters.

Anyway, in terms of reviews, I've decided to administer a different tactic: HEY PEOPLE! REVIEW ALREADY!

Okay, just kidding. Review if you so choose, but if you really don't like it, I'd prefer a review telling me that, so that I can improve my writing. And I really would like to know your thoughts- you may think it doesn't matter, but it does. So review if you would like, and thank you to previous reviewers.

So, I won't make any promises about the posting of Chapter 11, but I have been looking forward to it, so I have more initiative to write. Anyway, here is Chapter 10.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters. Nor do I own the quote 'Come over to the dark side...we have cookies'. I am not sure who owns that, however they are a genius and deserve credit.

* * *

"The only time I'll be available today is at sixteen hundred hours," the judge informed her, presumably consulting some sort of schedule. What he possibly had planned that could fill every other hour of the day, she wasn't sure- however as long as she could speak to him about the Caspian issue, she could not complain.

"Fine. What location would you suggest to meet?"

There was a brief silence on the phone. She continued through the hallway of the Bureau, past the cubicles and tiny offices used permanently by the police force and temporarily by Interpol agents. She wasn't looking for anything or anyone in particular, though it would have been nice to find something for once. All she seemed to have found of late were more and more mysteries to be solved and problems to remedy.

She wondered vaguely if Miles Edgeworth had been released yet- and if she would encounter him somewhere and watch her brief time of being the sole investigator fade away. Maybe it had not been a good idea to find the truth behind the murder of yesterday after all. This would have been much simpler if she hadn't.

"The conference room would be ideal. Do you know wh-" Judge Wellington began to speak again through the cell phone.

"Yes, if you are implying the one used yesterday."

A flash of light from the desk in a cubicle caught her eye, and she involuntarily stopped. It was probably nothing at all, though it deserved at least a second glance. She did not usually walk through this portion of the building, and therefore there was a slim possibility that she could find her missing evidence here- that which had been stolen from her locker. But maybe that was merely wishful thinking.

She entered the cubicle, examined the objects neatly organized and labeled in plastic bags, and came to the immediate conclusion that this was the stolen evidence. That had been almost laughably easy.

"Yes, I am. However, I will not be able to stay for a long period of time, and I can only tell you the information I know."

She was startled for a moment before realizing she'd been speaking on the phone. The evidence had been found, and she was now free to examine it again- and more importantly, to collect the fingerprints from it to identify the thief.

"That would be sufficient, Judge Wellington. I will speak to you then," she said, checking each evidence bag to ascertain that all pieces were present. Why would it be here of all places? It was as she had thought before- the thief's only goal was to hinder her investigation in some way, and so it did not matter where the evidence was. They had probably assumed she would not pass through this part of the building, or that she would simply ignore its presence.

"Goodbye, Miss von Karma," the judge stated, ending the call. She was relieved to have that distraction eliminated- perhaps now she could make some serious deductions about the case.

Thinking of it, she realized that this was near the location that she had read the mysterious and somewhat incriminating email on the stranger's computer. Whether it was a coincidence or not, it deserved investigating, and she was beginning to believe that today would be slightly more fortunate for her than yesterday. There were only so many times one could be ambushed and shot at by the smuggling ring, and she hoped that she had exhausted those chances.

She gathered the evidence and reentered the hallway, attempting to remember the exact location that she had found the email. Perhaps it was the next cubicle over? That seemed to have the same layout as in her memory. It had only been yesterday.

She tapped the mouse of the computer and found it to be turned off. No dice on this occasion- she would have to return at a later time if she were to find and interpret the email. The chances were again, slim- however she had learned in the last five minutes that unlikely did not always mean impossible.

* * *

The conference room was quiet and uninhabited at the moment. It was only about nine-hundred hours, though she would have expected at least some sort of meeting to be occurring. Perhaps it was better though- she could examine the missing evidence and the not previously dissected portions of the notebook in peace.

She deposited the remaining pieces of evidence on the table, having given some seemingly unimportant ones to the forensic scientist for fingerprint testing. To be completely honest, the evidence was no longer of particular help to her, as it seemed it would take some time for the trial of Quercus Alba to be rescheduled, and the evidence was probably impermissible after having been stolen. The only object of particular importance had been Jacob Baikal's trial notes, and those had already been returned to her by Caspian.

Caspian. He was likely at the top of her list of suspicions, and the chances of him being a spy for the ring seemed extraordinarily high. It was not as though his personality gave him away- as he could easily be the most cordial person she'd met. It was the fact that he always seemed to know too much, as though he was permanently one step ahead of the investigation. He was at a point that without outside influence would have been impossible to achieve, and the only explanation for that was that he was a part of the ring. Perhaps, though this may have been leaping for conclusions, Caspian could have been the one to have written the suspicious email. He could certainly have access to that computer and probably a motive to have written it, though she couldn't remember the exact words. Hopefully she could fi-

The door opened and someone entered. She was reminded of the phrase about devils- something about them entering if you spoke of them. Caspian looked at her for a moment as though confused, then nodded and turned to leave.

"Agent Caspian, I would like to speak to you," she said, stopping him from exiting the room without explanation. He turned and stepped to the table with a slight smile.

"Is something wrong, Miss von Karma?" Caspian asked with the usual tone of cordiality. She wondered if he realized the full nature of what she intended to accuse him of.

"Your current behavior in this investigation seems suspect," she began, but was interrupted.

"As I assured you before, I am not affiliated with the smuggling ring. I simply happened to be in beneficial place at the correct time, there was nothing more. I do not understand why you suspect me."

She was probably not going to gain anything with direct accusations, especially as she had no proof. The only way to find more information would be to question him more carefully.

"Fine. However I would like to know why you do not believe Agent Lang to be a smuggling ring member."

She had wondered that yesterday, about the fact that while the majority of other investigators agreed on his apparent guilt, Caspian remained firmly on her side. He in no way knew Agent Lang. Of course…if the smuggling ring wanted Interpol to accuse one of their own agents, having Caspian not accuse him would be completely counterproduc-

No. She would not become trapped in some mess of logic attempting to understand the truth. The mere fact that his opinion was different than that of the others for no reason was suspicious enough.

"Miss von Karma, I believe that you supported his innocence as well. I do not understand how having your opinion would make me suspicious…"

"Y-" she didn't manage to finish the word before Caspian continued.

"Oh, did you find your evidence?" he asked, motioning towards the objects on the desk. She struggled to stifle a gasp of confusion and somewhat victory.

"What do you mean? How are you aware that I was missing it?"

She observed the slightest twitch in his expression upon hearing that- an extremely small and yet still monumental tremor. She had caught him.

"…You were acting very oddly when I gave you Attorney Baikal's trial notes yesterday. I had the realization that you had previously seen that evidence but then had it disappear. I assumed that had occurred with your other documents as well."

That did not sound even slightly believable. She had exposed one lie in this man's story, and it was surprising to see how quickly it caved in. She almost enjoyed the feeling of discovering those lies, though she assured herself that she did not enjoy it _that _much. Exposing lies was what defense attorneys did, not prosecutors.

"Speaking of those notes," Caspian continued before she could share her opinion, "I read them before returning them to you, and I happened to notice that there was little mention of the smuggling ring. Certainly, it stated the crime Mr. Alba was accused of, but it in no way implied that its author was involved in the smuggling ring. It could be that Baikal is not, in fact, a member, and was merely kidnapped."

Despite wanting to return to Caspian's shady comment, she felt she had no choice but to respond to that statement.

"The evidence practically screams that Jacob Baikal is guilty, Agent Caspian. Only a fool would still believe in his innocence, and you have no real evidence to support your claim," she snapped. His pleasantness had not changed even slightly, yet the conversation seemed to have taken a serious turn for the worse.

"I believe it is not out of the question to assume the smuggling ring is trying to distract us. If they were on the verge of accomplishing a larger project, it would be necessary to confuse and mislead the investigators to hinder the investigation."

"That is-"

"Furthermore, considering that there have been serious attempts to cause harm to Interpol, such as during the ambush of the escort yesterday, it should be taken into consideration the smuggling ring's power. Agent Lang was kidnapped to cause difficulties in the investigation, and also as a distraction from what will really occur."

"Is there some reason you seem so sure of such information, Agent Caspian?" she questioned, wondering if she had found a new weak point.

He smiled. "Oh, I have no way of being sure- that was only a theory. However, the possibility of the smuggling ring attempting to disrupt the investigation again is great. You should take care that nothing damaging occurs to you, Miss von Karma."

She opened her mouth to speak, but the conversation was ending far too quickly.

"If you'll excuse me, I must leave now." Caspian said, stepping out the door of the conference room. She had accomplished nothing but developing even greater suspicion. He had somehow eluded what she planned to ask and accuse, and it was unclear if he would be available to be questioned again. The chance of him fleeing Interpol seemed likely.

In addition, she was left to wonder if the smuggling ring was planning another attack towards investigators- particularly her. Would it be possible? How would they have knowledge of her location long enough to attack her? And when would such an attack happen, if at all? She may have been becoming paranoid; however it would not be entirely unexpected for the ring to attempt to hurt her. She would have to be careful.

But careful, as she had observed before, never quite seemed to be enough.

* * *

He hadn't thought about time much until now. He hadn't been the sort to carry a watch everywhere, to ascertain the time every five minutes, to care about a few numbers to the point where he lived solely on their changing. But now that he had no concept of time whatsoever, it was starting to make him insane.

It was light. He could see at least some source of light through the tiny window to the outside, and it had been that way for a while- or maybe only a short time. Whether it was morning or afternoon, there was no way of knowing. At the very least, his cell appeared to be in the sub-basement, so he would know if it started raining, and if there was a fire he would not be subjected to a toxic amount of smoke. But aside from that, he could die easily. He was in enemy territory, and though the thought of death in no way petrified him, it wasn't something he was looking forward to. Of course, given that he hadn't actually been harmed at all since arriving here, it seemed less likely that he would die in the near future. And more likely that Shih-na would.

That was something to think about- he had determined that Shih-na was being punished for something, but exactly what that was he couldn't begin to imagine. All the same though, if she received this punishment enough, she probably would not feel particularly loyal to Quercus Alba, meaning…

What did that mean? If she lost her loyalty to the side of evil, if she was no longer a member of a crime syndicate, what would happen? Had she ever, at any time in her life, been on the good side? Would she ever potentially be there?

No. That was the stupidest delusion he had had yet since arriving here. First the nightmare and now this ridiculous failure at logical thought process. He really was going insane, and Shih-na was not helping matters.

He stared at the wall. It was white, and had been for the last five minutes, five hours, and…for as long as he had been there. Everything was dreary and boring, and he wondered if this was some sort of torture he had never heard about- leave the prisoner alone in the dullest room imaginable for their own subconscious to terrorize them. If he wasn't careful, he would fall victim to such a method.

_He felt as though hours had passed. As though time had slowed to the point where he could barely remember Shih-na's last words, as though he had been standing here, staring at her forever. He wasn't moving- he __**couldn't**__ move, couldn't think enough to remember what he should have been doing, which was cleaning up the mess of papers on the floor. The entire situation was indescribably odd- what was happening here? Why was he content to simply stand, saying and doing nothing at all?_

_Shih-na stared back at him. He felt his fingers release their grip on the canvas bag and paper he'd been holding, and his arms dropped to his sides limply. Looking away seemed impossible, and he had the feeling that if an explosion occurred five feet from him, his attention would not stray. Was he ill? This entire event was so uncharacteristic, so out of his control that he could scream. But that would involve speaking, and he seemed to be incapable of composing a thought rational enough for even that._

_The world disappeared into blackness. He had no surroundings, nothing to stop him from becoming disoriented, nothing to keep him from falling forward and-_

"_Agent Lang?"_

_He snapped from his trance and looked away. What was wrong with him? First he had accused her of disloyalty to Interpol with no actual proof, and now this. He was probably scaring her again, though he didn't particularly want to check. That would involve looking at her. Probably a bad idea._

"_Agent Lang?" she asked again, waving a hand in his field of vision as thought attempting to regain his attention. He didn't look back. His heart was racing again, and he felt as though he would hyperventilate. Really, was he ill? Was he acting so abnormally because of some infection, or had he gone completely insane? Why was this happening to him?_

If the smuggling ring's plan had been to let his subconscious torture him, they were certainly succeeding. He had been slightly grateful that the memory from before had stopped at the strangest part; however it seemed that now there would be no escaping. Not when he had absolutely nothing to do but stare at the wall and reflect.

_It was like a dream. Some sort of strange, eerie nightmare that he didn't quite understand. Certainly, he had heard every detail of what was happening, but that did not make it any more probable in his mind. There was no way that Shih-na was a…traitor, that she was currently holding a gun to the head of some teenager, that she was betraying him. He had never been one to tell himself lies, but the truth was too unbelievable to ever register in his brain. Shih-na was his assistant, not some secret weapon of the ring, and not the same as the Calisto-whatever everyone else had been talking about. There was no way that was true. He knew Shih-na. (At least, he thought he did.)_

_And now that detective was there, gun aimed at his assistant, about to shoot her as though she were some criminal deserving of such a thing. (Was she?) But he could tell that if she was shot, then the teenager would be dead too in seconds. This would never work, and he had to stop it before it occurred. He would be doing it to save that teenager's life. (He would do it to save Shih-na.) It was a win-win situation. (He would lose. Badly. He didn't care- perhaps that was the idiot in him revealing itself.)_

_Seconds passed. A shot was fired. He vaguely heard the noise of a person falling to the ground, but that wasn't important. He didn't feel the bullet ever hit him, but he could tell it had by the overwhelming sense of nausea and the absence of thought, as though all his energy had been redirected. _

"_What are you doing?" Shih-na hissed, trying to pull away from him and escape. His grip tightened, and his expression twisted to a sort of sickened grin in an attempt to overcome a suddenly sharp pain in his leg. He didn't care about being shot. Nothing mattered anymore except the fact that he'd been wrong. Shih-na was…a traitor after all, and he knew he had known that before. And he had done this anyway- why? Why risk his life for someone he knew to be evil? Because he did not want to ever believe the horrible truth? Because he thought that if he ignored it, it would become false? Because he…_

_No. He couldn't even think that. Whatever his reason had been, he would hide it away forever and never speak of it again. Not to anyone- and most importantly not to Shih-na or himself. Some things were meant to remain secret, to emerge only in the depths of some future dream when he would have no choice but to face them and fight them. But he wasn't ready yet._

"_It's over, Shih-na."_

He stood from the chair, paced to the nearest wall and smashed his head into it. This was stupid- the smuggling ring hadn't hurt him, hadn't even laid a finger on him and yet he still felt as though he was dying. It was as though someone knew him well enough to realize that if he could not keep moving- if he could not work nonstop to eliminate crime from the world- he would fall into a black hole of introspection. He hated wasting time on his inner thoughts, and now he had absolutely nothing to do but that. If only Quercus Alba would enter again and shoot him in the head, everything would be-

No. He had to stop thinking that way. There had to be something he could do to distract himself, some mystery he could solve that didn't involve leaving the room or speaking to anyone. Maybe he could search for an exit? But there was no way out of the room, he was sure. Maybe he co-

There was loud coughing in the next room, and he dashed the few feet to the window. That was it- he would try to figure out who the mysterious figure was. They were still slumped in their chair, looking nearly lifeless in the pale light. And he somehow hadn't noticed before, but their right sleeve was nothing but a large, dark stain. Blood, probably. They were injured and now bleeding to death, and would die before anyone could rescue them. His own situation didn't seem nearly as bad anymore.

He considered trying to get their attention in some way, though Quercus Alba had broken down the door and waved a gun around the last time he had even _looked _at the next room- so it was not the best idea. But maybe if he lifted the chair and dropped it, the noise would be loud enough to make the other prisoner look in his direction, without being too suspicious for the camera. He was about to do so when the door in the other room opened quietly.

He returned the chair to its proper place and stepped toward the window to see what was occurring. Shih-na glanced at the figure, then deposited what appeared to be a plastic container on the floor and left. His first thought was that it was some kind of explosive, but seeing the figure creep away from the chair and crawl across the room towards it, he decided it was probably food instead. And if the other prisoner recognized it so easily, they had probably been here for a while. That was an awful thought.

He spun around upon hearing the door to his own cell open, and knew immediately who it would be. He would have expected her to announce her entrance with a few sarcastic comments, but she wasn't even smiling or looking at him. Instead, Shih-na closed the door quietly and stared at the ground without a word. There was another plastic container in her hands, probably containing some sort of food product.

Silence- he almost faded into another flashback, but fought it. He stared at the floor thinking of nothing in particular, and Shih-na said nothing at all for what seemed like five minutes. Why was she here? And if it was only to bring food to a prisoner like himself, why wasn't she doing that? Was she here to tell him something? To request that he cooperate with the ring so that her life would be spared? And on that note, he needed to find out why her life would be in danger in the first place, and what she was being punished for. Directly asking her probably wasn't the best strategy, but it was the only one available.

After the silence had become persistent enough to deafen him, he gave up, walked across the cell and took the plastic container from Shih-na's hands- the way he'd snatched away whatever incriminating paper she'd been reading on the night from his dream. He stepped backwards to be away from her, though he wasn't entirely sure why. Perhaps he was expecting her to pull out some knife and try to slit his throat, or something else worse. At this time though, she didn't appear particularly threatening.

And she hadn't appeared threatening a moment before she'd pulled out a gun and tried to make her escape. And she hadn't appeared threatening before she'd murdered him in his nightmare. She _never_ looked threatening- like those poisonous plants that seemed to be nothing but pretty decoration, then attacked as soon as some unwitting insect came too close. Those were the most dangerous of all.

But odd metaphors aside, he needed to at least have some sort of conversation with Shih-na, on the chance that he could discover what she was being punished for. Of course, he didn't particularly want to speak to her, and the conversation would probably end badly for him, as it always seemed to. In addition to these problems, he could not directly ask her for the truth, and therefore had nothing to say. He glanced down at the food item he was holding and tried to stifle a feeling of confusion.

"What is this?" he asked. It was of no particular importance, but he had to start the conversation somehow if he ever expected to figure this out. She looked at him and vaguely smiled, though it was not the usual sarcastic smirk. She was still leaning against the closed door, having not moved since entering. It remained unclear her motive for being there.

"…This couldn't exactly be the dark side if there were no cookies, could it?" she replied.

He hadn't thought of it- though if he had, he wouldn't have expected said culinary creation to be dry, crumbly, and possibly on the verge of molding. He dropped the container to the floor and kicked it across the room. There was no more time for pointless discussion.

"How did you know the ring was going to reclaim you?" he asked bluntly, not expecting any answer. It was a start. The first step off a cliff without knowing if he had any parachute- risky, but better than remaining on that cliff forever.

Her smile grew slightly wider. "…It amazes me that you still believe everything I tell you, even after I was revealed. Really, how could I possibly know when the ring would attempt to reclaim me, or even if they would be successful? I had absolutely no idea."

He felt suddenly angry, and if he had been a violent person, he might have hit Shih-na by now. Actually, any normal person would likely have caused her physical harm by now, considering everything that had occurred. But he did nothing- was he afraid of stepping any closer to her? As though he was the unwitting insect lulled into a false sense of security by her stoic façade?

She continued, "In actuality, there was no true plan. It was simply discussed once that the smuggling ring as a whole would make an effort to reclaim important members who were lost…I would assume that it applied to me, however I had no way of being completely certain. Fortunately, you believed me enough to create the perfect situation for my reclamation…and had yourself kidnapped at the same time…"

"So you didn't know if they would get back Quercus Alba either?" he snapped.

Shih-na laughed. "I knew there would be a possibility of such a thing…however I had no way of knowing when it would be or if it would result well…but it matters not- after all, it seems to have worked perfectly. Your fate is now in the hands of the smuggling ring, and you can be particularly useful to us, as soon as we overcome the initial obstacle of your stubbornness…" she whispered, "…that will not take very long. Even though you have nothing left to lose, it appears those lost things still matter to you…"

He ignored her. "Aren't you being a little too generous with that information?"

She began laughing again. "You know, believing your kidnappers are generous when they give away irrelevant details and allow you to survive is a main symptom of Stockholm syndrome. Though I certainly would not be surprised if you had tha-"

"Why did Quercus Alba try to kill you?" he interrupted. Perhaps it was a bad attempt to bring this conversation back to course, but at the very least it was an attempt.

"…You may be an idiot, Agent Lang, however I believe you can understand something as simple as that. It affects you. Every time that you see my life threatened, you are convinced slightly to comply with the smuggling ring's demands."

Why did everyone seem to believe that? Why was everyone convinced that he still cared about Shih-na, after everything that had happened?

"You know I don't care. I don't care about you."

Shih-na smiled. "You are not looking at me when you say that…you seem to be looking past me, which is precisely what you do when you lie. You may tell me any untruth you would like, however I will always see through it. I know you far too well, Agent Lang. And despite what you may want to believe, you have no idea who I am."

He glared at her. "Yeah, I do. I know that y-"

She interrupted. "What is my name? Surely to know who a person really is…their name would be quite important. So do you know what my name is?"

He was silent and attempted to appear unfazed.

"…I thought not. You really know nothing about me…and I doubt that you ever will. However, you seem to care nonetheless about the lie of a personality you were told. You persist in calling me by a fake name, in continuing to think of me as your assistant…"

His fingers tightened into a fist, but he did not move. He could not win this fight, or any future fights with violence alone, no matter how angered he became.

"How can you live that way?" he asked, voice dull and almost unconnected from his thoughts. "How can you betray someone? You have to have been human once. You have to still care."

He wasn't entirely sure what he was saying, but the fact that she began to laugh again did not surprise him in the least. She would never answer him, and he could not even predict what her response might be. Perhaps she had never been human, and perhaps she really felt nothing when betraying another. But he had no way to be sure- that was the exact opposite of his personality.

"…That is an interesting question…and I suppose it is only fair to answer it. However there is an answer I would like from you first." Her smile disappeared for the first time in the conversation. He tried to avoid a look of surprise.

"…You are not simply an idiot…" she began with an expression serious to the point of scaring him, "I know you well enough to realize you have a reason for everything, and I would like to know the absolute truth. What would possess you to take a bullet for a traitor, someone who has done nothing but cause you harm? That is by far the most illogical action I have ever seen, and I would like to hear in your own words why you would do such a thing. As you would ask of me…tell the truth. Say it."

He didn't speak. He would not answer that kind of question, not at any cost. What was the point? She seemed to make up her own answers in less time than it would take him to invent one, so why should he tell her anything? And why should he tell himself anything either? It wasn't as though anything would ever become of his answer.

Shih-na smirked, seemingly having passed the serious phase of the conversation.

"Yes, I thought that you would have some difficulty with that. But I will be expecting your answer, as you will be expecting mine. Consider your options carefully."

He was in the process of decoding her statement when the door slammed closed after her. Potentially, she was implying that he consider the options he could take as a prisoner of the ring- whether he chose not to cooperate and jeopardized her life, or if he decided to 'save' her and betray his own side. Was she really asking him to decide that in her favor? Did she think there was even the most remote possibility?

"_**That expression on your face, the horrified look you had when you bore witness to what occurred…that is exactly what I am striving for. Perhaps you could fight through your own personal pain and torture, but could fight through that of another? Particularly, of your former assistant?"**_

Of course he could. He would eliminate the last fragments of the doubt and become truly invincible to their tactics, unable to be shaken by any alleged torture. Even if the doubt had been strong enough to put him between Shih-na and a bullet, he would have to somehow overcome it forever- to put it away and refuse to think about it until it completely disappeared from his mind, until it faded into the incomprehensible past. Whatever method he employed, he would have to stop it as soon as he could and reset his life to perfect, blank state status. He would return to the way he had existed before any of these events had begun, before he had even started to have these thoughts in his head. He would do it somehow.

Even if it was impossible, he had no choice.

* * *

She had always vaguely expected that those of an evil nature would conduct normal activities such as work with the same amount of malice. Whether that entailed victorious laughter, loud construction of nefarious plans, or even simply shooting flies with rubber bands, the subject she watched seemed to be doing none of those. Caspian remained instead, patiently typing an email in the way any normal person would. She would not say that it was disappointing; however she had expected things to be slightly more obvious. Surveillance was not strongpoint. For the majority of the time, it was dreadfully boring.

She had been correct about Caspian inhabiting the cubicle in which she'd discovered the suspicious message- at least he was now. And if her missing evidence had been only a few feet away, his evilness seemed even more present. She watched silently from a room directly across the hall, on the off chance that he would leave for a moment and leave his email unguarded. But it was 15:47, and she had been watching him for nearly thirty minutes. She would have to return to the conference room to speak to Judge Wellington, and she had no more time to foolishly squander doing absolutely nothing. Perhaps if she had some way of forcing Caspian to leave his office?

She took a thin fountain pen from the otherwise empty desk of the room, stepped out into the hallway, and flung it with some force across the cubicle walls. It was unlikely that it would assist her cause, however s-

There was an abrupt shout from the direction she had thrown the pen, and she came to the conclusion that her aim had been unintentionally good. The projectile returned into view, and as though revenge-seeking, collided with the keyboard to Caspian's computer. She had indirectly claimed his attention, and felt a strong sense of deviousness when he rose and left the area, presumably to return the pen to the side of whoever she had hit.

This was her perfect opportunity. She entered the other cubicle silently and navigated to the 'sent messages' page on the computer, maintaining in mind what she was searching for. It had most likely been sent yesterday, and she located it easily.

_**Why don't you trust me? I explained the situation to you before, and you know exactly who I'm loyal to. I need to be informed of developments in the organization. You can't stop telling me things and expect the plan to still work.**_

The organization- she assumed that was the smuggling ring, and if correct this email was proof of his involvement. She pressed the print key and anticipated obtaining it in a paper copy, for further dissection and reference. However, in what seemed to be a halt to her stroke of luck, the printer was irritatingly loud.

"That is odd…I do not remember printing something…" she heard Caspian's voice over the thin walls of the section. "…If you will excuse me, I need to assure that everything is alright…"

And the copy had still not printed. No attempt to will the machine to work faster would do, and if she didn't leave immediately, consequences would result. She had a choice between temporarily losing evidence, or seriously compromising the investigation. She did not like to lose things- not evidence, not cases, not battles. But whether or not she would compromise information in order to win such a battle…nevermind. Her personal philosophies had nothing to do with this. This was about either keeping the investigation safe or obtaining concrete proof through questioned means.

She exited the cubicle and fled down the hallway in an escape of Caspian. He would most likely experience confusion upon finding his suspicious email on the screen and in the printer; however that could not be helped at the moment. He would not prove that she had done anything illicit…and unfortunately, neither would she for him. But she would still have chances to obtain other evidence tha-

"Franziska?"

Of course. She had successfully avoided Caspian only to encounter the fool in the hallways. She did not have time for this- sixteen hundred hours was ticking closer every second, and she could not afford to be late.

"What is it, Miles Edgeworth?" she snapped, "…I see that they released you from incarceration."

He smiled slightly. "Yes, thank you for clearing my name, whether you intended to or not…" he paused and his expression turned questioning. "…Were you just running down this hallway?"

She scowled. "That is none of your business. I have somewhere to be." She turned to walk past him, and he followed her characteristically. Why had she cleared his name again? It was only going to cause her a great amount of trouble through the rest of the investigation, presuming he refrained from putting his fingerprints on any more murder weapons.

"The only reason I can think for you to be running is that you were escaping something. Is that right?"

She stopped, clenched her fists and attempted to keep herself from punching him. He would most likely not cease guessing until he had determined everything about the event. And that would take absolutely forever- which she did not have.

"I found an email on Agent Caspian's computer that indicts him as a member of the smuggling ring. I was unable to obtain a copy of it before he returned to his office. I have found my missing evidence, and I have strong reason to believe Caspian was the thief who stole it. I am currently meeting with Judge Wellington to obtain information about Agent Caspian. Do you intend to intrude upon my investigation?"

She heard him sigh, as though she were some child to become frustrated with. And she had even given him all the necessary information- how ungrateful.

"…Franziska, if you did not want me 'intruding' on your investigation, clearing my name was certainly a bad decision. Yes, I intend to accompany you. I would be interested to hear what Judge Wellington has to say."

She ignored him and continued walking in the direction of the conference room, aware that he would not cease following her. Resorting to a life of crime seemed significantly more appealing, if only in the world of her dreams. Stubborn people irritated her to no end.

She opened the door to the conference room, expecting to see Judge Wellington waiting for her- it was only a few minutes past the time of the meeting, and he seemed like the sort to honor his appointments. He did not, on the other hand, seem like the sort to randomly become Agent Cyan instead. Said agent occupied the room instead, and sneered upon seeing her. She glared back.

"Well, if it isn't the evil von Karma and her assistant. Are you here to terrorize me? I am _so _afr-"

She interrupted. "Keep your foolish ranting to yourself. Where is Judge Wellington? I am supposed to meet him in this location, and I would prefer that you leave."

Cyan laughed. "That's very rude, von Karma. But if you absolutely have to know, Wellington just left. Apparently he had waited for you long enough and had other important things to do. How unfortunate for you."

"What?" she demanded, checking the time and seeing it to be still only a few minutes past. The judge had not waited at all- it would prove difficult to speak to him ever.

"If you really want to talk to him, he _might _still be in the parking lot."

She spun and made to exit the door, not waiting for any further comments from the excessively negative Cyan. It was highly annoying that the subject she planned to speak to had left before she had arrived, however it could not have been very long before. The probability of him being in the parking lot was still reasonable.

"Franziska, what specifically were you planning to ask the judge? Perhaps we could speak to him over the phone…"

She had not thought about the specific questions- but that did not matter. She could think of them soon enough, as long as Wellington was still there. She opened the front door to the building with unnecessary force and surveyed the parking lot. The Interpol van she had used as transportation that morning was present in its normal location. There were several more police and Interpol vehicles scattered throughout the parking lot in an understandable formation, and one unusual black car hovering in the center of the lot, not in any particular space.

"I think he may have already left. You can probably speak with him tom-"

Miles stopped abruptly, and she turned to look at him, slightly surprised. It was unlike him to stop annoying her for no conceivable reason. His eyes were fixed in the center of the lot, and she looked back to see that it was on the strange black car.

"What are yo-" she almost began, before her eyes could adjust. The window of the car was unrolled, and a gun was present in the hands of the driver. It was not abnormal to see a gun, considering her location, but something seemed slightly odd about the car, and the dark ski mask its driver wore.

"…Franziska, do you know who that is?" Miles asked quietly. Was he actually expecting an answer? This was hardly the time. There were other things of greater importance, such as what the stranger was planning to do with the weapon he possessed.

Maybe it was merely a misconception, and there was no malicious intent behind the possession of the gun. Maybe he had a perfectly good reason to carry the gun, and maybe that perfectly good reason-

Was to shoot her. Because in the next three seconds, that was exactly what he did.


	12. Chapter 11

...I almost had this by Wednesday. Oh well, here it is now. This has been my favorite chapter to write so far, even though I really dislike fire. Oh, and it's called 'Staying Silent In A Burning Building', because there was a previous chapter called 'Crying Fire In An Uncrowded Interrogation Room'. My chapter titles are really weird.

Anyway...some slight Lang/Shih-na in this chapter. What else...well, no idea when Chapter 12 will be ready. Hopefully soon. Sorry this chapter is so long.

Review! It's a nice thing to do. Help people know what you liked and disliked. (By people, I mean me.)

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. Or Allebahst. Or fire, fortunately.

* * *

She froze.

It was a normal reaction, the sort that would always overpower common sense. This response of sudden fear that rendered her incapable of motion would drown out any instincts of fight or flight. She was useless before a loaded gun, useless when her life was put into this sort of danger- as though her brain simply shut down when ask to perform a task under that pressure. As much as she hated to admit it, she could still not overcome the intense fear of being shot that she had developed a year before. It continued to plague her subconscious, only surfacing in times like these.

But she would die if she didn't move. The first bullet had been but a few inches from her face, and the masked man in the black vehicle seemed as though he would shoot again without hesitation. It was now or never. But why couldn't she unfreeze in ti-

The fool shoved her a few feet to the side, placing her behind the barrier of a parked van. Did he not realize that she was perfectly capable of hiding without help? She would not be afraid anymore, not ever again. Not even as bullets rained through the air she had just vacated, slicing into the surroundings as they had the day before. Despite what she had previously told herself, she had not yet met the limit for the number of times she could be ambushed and shot at by the smuggling ring. Perhaps this would be the end- for a good reason and not a bad one.

"Are you alright?" Miles asked in a whisper, as though there was anyone to possibly overhear.

"Obviously," she snapped, glancing through the window of the van she used as a shield. There was a second figure with a firearm, who had left the vehicle and was approaching them with a barrage of ammunition. She wondered vaguely if he was in danger of being shot by the man still in the black car, though they had probably planned this in advance. That was unfortunate. She had no way of fighting back- then again, she never did.

"It seems that they intend to attack us on foot if necessary," Miles remarked, evidently viewing the same situation as her, "If we return to the building, they would follow us. Do you have access to an Interpol van we could use for escape?"

She extracted a thin key from her pocket, resisting the urge to tell him that he could stay here and deal with the masked gunmen while she escaped. He wouldn't listen anyway- he never did.

"It is the white van three spaces from here."

Another fragment of metal flew past her head, and she came to the realization that they had been found. She looked across the cars to see the second masked man staring at her, standing on the same sidewalk as she was. She tried to ignore the weapon in his hand.

"Franziska, let's go!"

It was unlike him to yell, but she did snap to attention in time to follow him down the sidewalk to the car. The stranger was gaining- and her fingers still tripped over the intricacies of key. She had only seconds to save herself, to stop another bullet from hitting her the way it had in her dream. If she didn't complete this one task absolutely perfectly, her world really would come to an end. She was going to fail this test if she wasn't just a little bit faster…

The door opened. She flung herself inside, and unlocked the passenger's door so that the fool could enter. Even if she would have preferred to leave him behind, she would potentially need bait for her future plans, whatever they might be- and she was strongly opposed to placing her own life in mortal danger on a whim.

The van sped at blinding speeds from its parking spot and onto the road, and she observed the second masked man returning to the black car as if ready to pursue her vehicle. This would be slightly more difficult than she had hoped, however there was nothing that could be done to stop them. Neither she nor Miles possessed any usable weapons. The only escape from this situation would be to outdrive the enemy, if that was possible.

"…The men who ambushed us must have been members of the smuggling ring…" Miles began, as though attempting his apparent method of logic out loud. He continued, "…they were likely attempting to harm or kill us to interfere with the investigation. They must have come from the smuggling ring's hideout in this area, probably the same location that they are keeping Agent Lang in."

"I'm aware," she informed him impatiently, eyes flicking to the side mirrors. The masked gunmen were advancing upon the car, and a bullet shattered a window on the back of the van. She pressed the accelerator pedal further into the floor, watching the speedometer increase to far above the legal limit. If only a police officer would stop her. Or better yet, stop the ring members chasing her with intent to kill. Where was law enforcement whenever it was vitally important?

"Franziska, I doubt that we can evade the smuggling ring for very long. We should call for some sort of help and attempt to find a location to hi-"

"Quiet," she said sharply, a plan beginning to synthesize in her mind. It was extremely risky, and the chances of its success left much to be desired- but it wasn't as though there was another option. And if it did work of course, the benefits would be immense. She could not guarantee perfect success, but she could guarantee perfect results if the plan was a perfect success. Maybe that was enough.

A shower of bullets impacted with the van- this was her opportunity.

She spun the wheel of the van as though she had gone temporarily insane. The vehicle spun with it, and when her head crashed painfully into the window, she remembered that she had forgotten to put on her seatbelt. Not that there was anything to be done about that now. She slumped purposefully against the steering wheel, and the motion in the van stopped. She was no longer spinning. This was the time of judgment.

"Franziska?" Miles seemed to question, as though surprised and confused. She had given him strong reason to be, of course, but he was interfering with her plan. She kept her head down and watched from her peripheral vision as the smuggling ring's car shot past them, continuing on the road at only a slightly slower pace. The guns retracted from the windows. The car did not stop. She had convinced them that they had completed their mission. A plan perfectly executed- she smirked and rose from the position of her false death.

"Are you-" the fool stopped abruptly when she turned the wheel of the van again, steering back to the road as though absolutely nothing had occurred. She was fine, and she now had the opportunity to follow the smuggling ring's car, to trace it back to its origin. She would know the location of the hideout, and potentially be able to reclaim Agent Lang while arresting the ring members there. Her luck seemed to have returned.

"Franziska, do you really believe that following that car is a safe decision? The hideout is probably strictly guarded, and I cannot imagine that we could enter wit-"

"I did not ask you to enter, Miles Edgeworth. You can remain in the vehicle and call for back up if you so choose. I intend to enter the building and actually accomplish something."

He sighed. She decreased the van's speed to stay behind the slowing car, and watched it turn into the parking lot of a five-story complex, that she had originally assumed was some sort of media conglomerate upon passing it before. It might have been the image from her dream even, and it was surrounded by signature Cohdopian foliage. She chose a location in the lot mostly shielded from view, and turned off the van. This was it. She had found the location of the smuggling ring with no outside help, just as she had been hoping to do. It wasn't as satisfying as she would have expected- there was still the immense challenge of entering the building unseen. But she would do it.

"As I said before, trying to enter the building is very dangerous. I suggest that we wait for other Interpol agents before continuing," Miles said as she reached for the handle.

"Then call other agents. I refuse to wait for them to-"

He glared at her sharply. She resisted the urge to 'roll her eyes' in the fashion of a teenager. He remained consistently with irrational worries.

"Fine. I will observe the building from the outside, and will not enter it until further notice. Is _that _satisfactory?" she asked with a tone of sarcasm.

He nodded, still partially glaring. "Refrain from doing dangerous things, Franziska."

"Whatever." She opened the van door and exited quietly, calculating the best possible route to approach the building in the shadows of plant life. She would be able to do this. She was ready to find the truth of that building, however horrible it might be.

And she was ready to stop the smuggling ring, no matter their defenses.

* * *

Shih-na's question was a disease. He didn't feel ill in any particular way, but the idea seemed to replicate and attack him from all sides, exactly the way a virus would. It wasn't as though he hadn't wondered about it before, but he had simply had no time to consider it. Now, he did. Time was a horrible, horrible curse that would kill him if he stayed here long enough. After what felt like six hours of evasion and protection against the idea virus, he lost. He had nothing else to think about. It was silent in the halls, the stranger in the next room could not hear him, and he had absolutely nothing to capture his attention.

What if he was supposed to figure it out? What if he was supposed to answer the question, at least for himself? If he understood the situation, maybe he could better solve it in the future.

Or maybe it would make everything worse. But he had no way of knowing. Why had he taken the bullet for her? Why had he ignored the fact that she was a traitor and that she was about to take another human life, and put himself in serious danger for her? Why was he such- as she would put it- an idiot?

There was an obvious answer. He'd already said it aloud at the moment in question, and it was the fact that she remained his subordinate. No matter what she had previously done or was doing currently, she was still his subordinate and he felt as though he had to protect her from all harm. For six years, he had shielded her, thinking that was what was best, and now? It had had no point. No value. Shih-na had lied to him from the very start, about everything.

And he still had wanted to protect her. He had still wanted things to remain normal, to pretend that nothing had been revealed. He had wanted to ignore a blatant truth, because lies were so much prettier.

Was that just his nature? He always tended to protect those he trusted, even under the most dangerous circumstances. If he was responsible for a person, he should be the one to take the fall for them, correct? He had followed that method until now, and still seemed to be perfectly alive. But had he crossed some sort of line in what he had done? Or, more directly, would he have done the same thing if he discovered another member of his pack to be a traitor?

He couldn't know. Nothing along those lines had happened before- Shih-na was the first. Outlier or not, he would have to base his personal analysis on what he had done. He had taken a bullet for her. He had heard every word she had said, experienced every moment of the betrayal, and his opinion of her hadn't seemed to change. He was illogical. His relationship with Shih-na was illogical. Hewas an idiot. An idiot who had still cared about her when he should have hated her, who seemed to possess feelings about her that-

No. That wasn't important now- he didn't care. He hated her now, that was the only thing that mattered. He hated the person she truly was. Why couldn't he just say it to her face?

There were loud footsteps in the hallway, and he heard what seemed to be a conversation. He stood and paced to the door, relieved that the self-psychoanalysis was finished. That was the last time he would be doing that.

"I think we got them!" a voice exclaimed excitedly from a location perhaps twenty feet from his cell. He strained to see the speaker, but it was impossible, and he couldn't pick out any distinguishing features in their tone.

"Do you _think, _or are you completely certain?" demanded another, more sinister voice, who he identified immediately as Quercus Alba. Exactly the person he wanted to inflict harm upon, not that he would have the opportunity. He continued listening.

"Well, I'm pretty sure…after we shot the van, it swerved around and stopped on the side of the road. I saw that blue-haired lady and she looked pretty dead. We might have killed that other guy too."

He made the assumption that the 'blue-haired lady' was von Karma, and 'that other guy' was Mr. Edgeworth. And apparently, they had possibly just been killed. He felt worried for a moment, but then disregarded it. He couldn't imagine either of them dying so easily- they must have been completing some sort of plan. What it was, he couldn't imagine. But he knew they were still alive.

"Good. Cause all possible chaos you can in Interpol, and the agents we have there can inform you the best way to do so. Are the preparations made for completing the objective?" Alba questioned menacingly. He wondered what 'the objective' was, and presumed it to be whatever plan the ring was attempting. What he had to stop, once he found an escape from here.

"I think we're ready. It's supposed to happen the day after tomorrow, and as far as I can see, it'll be a success. I heard that Interpol's been too distracted to figure anything out."

He gritted his teeth and stifled the automatic anger he felt whenever someone insinuated that his organization was incompetent. There had been serious issues lately, of course, but that in no way meant that they did not accomplish things. This was an extremely difficult case (especially given his current situation), so he understood a slight delay. But the ring would be stopped.

"I see. Make sure you keep it that way."

He heard a quiet 'yes, sir' and then the sound of retreating footsteps, as though the conversation had finished. He returned to his seat, having for once gained some important information. He knew that the ring was planning something to occur in two days, and that the ring had tried to kill von Karma and Mr. Edgeworth. They believed they had succeeded. He didn't agree. But there was no way to find out anything unless he could somehow leave this prison. He refused to drown in his own subconscious any more, and he had no desire to speak to his apparent 'prison guard' again, as it never turned out well.

But he had found the answer to her question, whether he'd wanted to or not. He knew the way he'd felt about her when taken the bullet, and he thought he knew what he felt now. He had a perfectly good reason to hate her, and therefore no motive to feel anything else. It was over, after all.

There was an echo of footsteps in the hallway.

The door opened, and he shot up by force of habit. He didn't know who he was hoping or expected to see, but he was disappointed and vaguely annoyed. He had just finished thinking that he wanted to avoid her at all costs, and he seemed to be failing at that objective.

Shih-na stood at the doorway, with the usual innocent smile, mocking him silently with the severity of her words from earlier that day.

"So, Agent Lang…given any thought to my question?" she asked, as though said question had been trivial and unimportant. Perhaps she planned to continue her interrogation on that subject, as though it was exactly what he wanted to talk about.

He feigned a sense of ignorance. "Given any thought to _mine_?"

Perhaps she had always been completely inhuman, and perhaps she felt nothing when betraying another. He would not be in any way surprised- some were simply traitors by nature, and nothing he could ever have done would have changed her. He hated to think that there were people like that- or should he say, nonpeople. But there were.

Shih-na's smile widened, and she walked a little farther into the room without closing the door behind her. He couldn't help but wonder why…and whether or not he wanted to know the reason. He had an increasing feeling of dread.

"I would say my question was a bit more important, given your current situation…for example, how will you escape?"

He stared at her, waiting for some sort of explanation. He could tell which direction this conversation would take, though. And it could not be good at all.

"I've left the door open, but leaving the room would involve going through me first…and would you be capable of hurting me, Agent Lang? Even if it was to save yourself?"

He wanted to say yes. He wanted to tell himself that she would never stop him from doing anything, that she would never interfere with his life or his logical reasoning again. He hated her, right? He shouldn't have had any hesitation, or any problem telling her that. But for some reason, he had to say it to start to know it was true.

"I would, Shih-na. Your life…means nothing to me."

If he had expected the coldness of those words to have any possible effect on who he was talking to, he was absolutely incorrect. She did not seem to hesitate, but her expression grew darker, more sinister.

"Oh really…so then, why haven't you escaped yet? And also…if my life truly means nothing to you, then you would have had no motivation to take that bullet for me, would you have?"

He forced himself to look past her, towards the door. Towards freedom, at least from his current room. What if this was the escape that he had been looking for? It would be obviously improbable, but there was no other method he could possibly think of. He had a choice- could he take it? Would he take it if it would stop her attempts to torment him?

"So tell me, Agent Lang…is that really something you would do for someone who meant nothing to you?"

Her smile sickened him. And her eyes, staring at him, her voice burning into him like acid, dissolving his mind and his heart until he couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't see her, couldn't listen to her.

He broke into a run for the door.

She was too quick.

She was at the door frame a split second before he arrived, as though she had seen everything coming- and she had, of course. As she had said before, she always knew exactly what he was thinking, knew every single motive behind everything he did.

"So close, Agent Lang. And yet, so far."

He was standing far too close to her- a side effect of having run to the door to quickly. He hadn't stopped fast enough to avoid colliding with her, and had stopped far too much to have been able to push her out of the way. And now he was trapped in some sort of limbo between the safe decision and the risky yet better one. He had failed. He knew it, and he knew she knew it. And he was still too close to her.

"Are you simply going to stand there forever? I have better things to do then watch you be idiotically in love."

"Shut up." He whispered.

"Certainly." She replied, slamming the door in his face.

He retreated from the door with his heart still racing and blood beginning to boil. What was wrong with her? Why did she take every minute of her time to intricately plot out how to torment him? Why was she so intent on his destruction that she would do something like what she had just done?

…But she hadn't been in control of that situation. He understood reactions well enough to know that she had not planned that. She had not formulated what she would say, had not intended for things to result the way they had. She was not invincible. He had found something amiss about her, though what it meant he doubted he would find out.

But more importantly, what was he supposed to do with what she had said? She had implied that he was…in love with her, and he had thought of no other response than telling her not to continue. He should have told her the truth, should have eliminated any last doubts about his current hatred for her. Why couldn't he deal with this like a normal person? Shih-na was a traitor. Traitors were dealt with by forgetting them, by denying their existence until they disappeared. That was what he should have done, and what he would have done if it had been anyone els-

What? No. Shih-na _was _everyone else. He hated her. He denied her existence. He would forget her. It was as simple as that.

With that issue resolved, he turned to the window to the outside and glanced out, in an attempt to distinguish the time from the limited viewpoint. There was still light, though less than before- it was probably sometime in the afternoon, maybe a few hours from dusk. He stepped closer to the window to see more, but only the outlines of what seemed to be foliage were visible. He knew that there was a parking lot outside, and he could see a few other buildings, but it was completely unclear where he was. He might have been in another country, or at least a bit far from where he'd been made unconscious. It was impossible to t-

There was motion in the window. There was a hand in his field of view, and considering he was in the sub-basement, its owner would have had to be sitting by the side of the building. He could think of no reason for anyone in the ring to be doing that. It was as though the person was attempting to avoid being seen from any windows by staying close to the building. Why would anyone do that?

He gave a glance at the security camera, and as inconspicuously as possible, hit the glass. The hand moved as though its owner had shuddered, and he waited. After three seconds, the person outside turned and entered the view of the window.

He grinned. Von Karma looked like she was having a heart attack.

"Agent Lang?" he heard vaguely through the noise-muffling window.

He nodded and kept silent. Better to appear as though he had gone insane than to appear suspicious by speaking. She returned the nod and rose, leaving the view of the window. He presumed that she was accompanied, and had probably contacted the remainder of Interpol by now. He would get to leave, and the ring would be caught. It was so incredibly eas-

A horrible, piercing alarm shattered his reverie like a sword through a piece of glass. It was the type of noise that paralyzed the brain, stopping all thought until it could be tuned out. He grimaced, covered his ears to fight the pain, and raced to the door. The alarm seemed to originate from a small speaker on the wall, and he presumed it was a type of alert signal used when warning the ring members of something. He looked through the window in the door, and strained to hear past the hideous scream of the alarm to a voice in the hallway.

"…_Found us!"_

"…_Van outside? Those sirens approaching…"_

"_Get the documents now! Evacuate!"_

He could hear only tiny blurbs of conversation, though the general intent was obvious. Von Karma had been discovered, or at least someone from Interpol had. The ring was attempting to leave the building before they could be discovered and arrested. The chances of apprehending the criminals was decreasing, but he could hope at the very least to be 'accidently' left behind. Then he could leave this cell as soon as Interpol arrived, and speculate on what would occur. After all, there was no way that every single document and forgery could ever be taken away in ti-

He stopped. There was an alarm. An unignorable alarm that could bring a patient out of a coma, that could bring the dead back to life. The ring had to leave the building and hide all evidence of what they had been planning. There was no way to do that by simply grabbing everything and dragging it out. And he smelled something odd.

Smoke. The alarm was a fire alarm. The ring was burning down what it couldn't take away, and that included him.

He looked back into the hallway to see the acrid, gray gas beginning to fill the area, and wondered briefly if the door was fireproof. It would probably take at least thirty minutes to disintegrate it, which left him time to think of a plan. Unless he suffocated first. Smoke was entering around the edges of the cell's door, and if he could not find a way to eliminate it, the room would soon be filled.

He turned and walked back to the chair sitting in the middle of the room, lifted it, and smashed the small window leading to the outside. It was near the ceiling, so the smoke would exit and leave him alive for a while, at least. It was too narrow to attempt to escape though, so he would have to find another way out. He heard sirens in the distance, probably those of police cars, and could also vaguely hear the screech of tires in the parking lot. The ring was escaping. He could do nothing about it.

He glanced into the next room, remembering the dying stranger. An equal amount of smoke swirled, obscuring his view and making him utterly unable to see the figure's reaction. They had probably had no reaction. They would die of smoke inhalation without being able to fight back, would finally lose to the smuggling ring. He felt sudden anger, despite the fact that he had never heard of nor spoken to the person he wanted to help.

He took the chair again and swung it into the other window. If the two rooms were connected, the smoke could exit through the glass he'd previously smashed out, thus stopping the stranger from suffocating. He could do something to help in his situation, for once. If it worked, at least.

It didn't.

The chair impacted with the extraordinarily strong glass and broke, throwing him into the wall. His head connected with the metal and he felt himself slump to the floor, unable to stay standing. The alarm continued as though mocking him. He felt horribly dizzy and disconnected with the world, and coughed uncontrollably due to the smoke. Smashing out the window hadn't been good enough. He was still being suffocated, and nothing he could do would fix that.

He had to face the facts- unless there was some spontaneous miracle, he was going to die.

* * *

She was halfway across the parking lot, running for the Interpol van when the strange noise began. She wouldn't have noticed it at first, as it was coming from the building, but its piercing frequency caught her attention. It was not merely background noise. It had a meaning, and though she could not fathom what that meaning was, she did not doubt its significance. Maybe she had set off the alarm by approaching the building? Probably not- she had seen no security cameras, nor anyone inside the building with the exception of Agent Lang.

She had found him- that was good news. As soon as Interpol and the police arrived, she would be able to enter the building and stop the smuggling ring. Her plan had worked. She had achieved the perfect results she had been looking for- members of the ring would be arrested, Agent Lang would be reclaimed, and she would have access to a large amount of incriminating documents. The ring would begin to come undone, and it was solely her victory. She had been the first to find this location, the first to actually stop criminals- exactly the von Karma way. Somehow, she did not feel as exultant as she would have expected- was something wrong?

She crossed the final distance of the lot and reentered the van, hearing several sirens growing louder, drowning out the now quiet hum of the alarm. She was too far away from the building to consider it anymore, and it couldn't matter very much anyway- backup would arrive shortly.

"Did you find anything of interest, Franziska?" Miles asked calmly as she entered. She assumed that he had been the one to contact the source of the sirens.

She paused to regain oxygen and spoke, "I located Agent Lang in a room of the subbasement, on the left side of the building from the entrance. He did not appear injured, though it may be difficult to find that portion of the building from the inside."

His eyes widened in surprise. She smirked.

"Were you seen by any members of the smuggling ring?" he questioned.

She was about to respond when a screech echoed through the parking lot, as though a car had turned sharply at a fast speed. Her eyes flew to the window, and were met with a string of vehicles that seemed to come from nowhere and were exiting onto the road. It was the ring. The sirens grew louder still, but she knew that it would be too late.

"Franziska, I think that they may have seen you," Miles stated, and she glared at him. It could not be entirely her fault- after all, hearing approaching sirens was usually a warning to run if you were a criminal.

Either way, this remained a serious problem. She turned on the van and pressed the accelerator pedal, turning as fast as possible and speeding towards the origin of the cars. There was likely some kind of garage on that side of the building, and so the parking lot could remain empty and not suspicious. They had seen the Interpol van, no doubt, and come to the conclusion that they had been found. This mission would prove slightly more difficult than it had first seemed.

"We have no weapons. Trying to stop them is near-"

A bullet impacted with the windshield of the van, cracking the glass. She wondered vaguely why the windows were not quite bulletproof, considering how many times she had been shot at in the past few days, but ruled that out as unimportant. She pressed the accelerator more, attempting to block the second exit from the lot. Police cars had begun to arrive, though it appeared that most of the ring had already left.

Another bullet cracked the window on the passenger's side, and she saw Miles Edgeworth move backwards in surprise.

"Franziska! This is extremely dangerous!" he whisper-shouted. She would have preferred to ignore him, though he did have a point. No further cars exited the building. She had been too late to stop anything from occurring, and had perhaps only made the matter worse. Her grip tightened on the steering wheel in annoyance. Why had this not worked? The plan had functioned perfectly so far, what was she supposed to do when it stopped working? She could not cope with this kind of imperfection- not in this situation, and not in her life as a whole.

Not that she had any choice.

* * *

"Wait, so you just _happened _to 'get ambushed' by the smuggling ring when you went outside, and then you _miraculously _managed to avoid being shot in a car chase, pretend to be dead, and follow the ring to this place? And then they 'saw you and thought they should leave'? And now that Interpol's here, they all just _happen _to be gone?"

It sounded significantly less believable when Cyan stated it with such a sarcastic tone of voice. Maybe that was the point.

"Yes. That is exactly what happened," she snapped, observing the office building from her current location at the front of the parking lot. It gave off the impression of being empty, though at the same time, a sort of light seemed to emanate from the windows. It was very odd. And the piercing alarm continued to sound in the distance, without explanation.

"Franziska, I believe that it will be safe to enter the building now. You said that Agent Lang was being held on a lower level?"

"Wait a minute," Cyan began before she could respond, "I don't think it's the best idea to let the traitor von Karma here enter the smuggling ring's hideout by herself. And not with you either, Mr. Edgeworth- weren't you just being questioned on suspicion of killing an agent?"

"I was cleared of those char-"

"I do _not _take orders from you, Agent Cyan. You may enter the building to investigate for yourself, but you can_not _prevent me from doing the same."

She watched Cyan scowl with no particular emotion, and wondered if the agent actually thought that she was a traitor, or if it was simply a desire to annoy her. It seemed that there were a great number of persons in the world with that same objective.

"Okay, whatever. Caspian and I will go in too and stop you from destroying evidence."

She was about to give some type of retort when she felt the fool staring at her disapprovingly. Not that it was under his control, though it was probably better that she enter the building and attempt to find information and a kidnapped Interpol agent. She managed to refocus her attention from the extremely irritating person she had been speaking to, and looked back towards the ring's hideout. Five stories watched her menacingly, with that same slight glow coming from the windows, of which she could still not originate the source.

She directed towards the front door of the complex, finding it unlocked and easily accessible. She entered and was followed by the fool, Cyan, and Caspian, though she was slightly disturbed that the last would have access to the potential information in the building. There was absolutely nothing she could do about it- not as long as she possessed no proof.

The interior was as neat and orderly as it had been in her dream, but with a lobby that made it seem like an almost reputable organization. It was extremely warm, as though the thermostat had been turned up as far as possible, and the alarm was still blaring as though there was anyone else to hear it. She performed a cursory glance for important documents, and viewed several on the supposed receptionist's desk, scrawled in the Allebahstian language. She would have to collect those when she left and request the service of a police officer in translating it. But first- she needed to complete another important goal in coming here.

"Caspian and I are going upstairs. If we see any smuggling ring members, we'll shoot them. And yes, that does include you two," Cyan said, smirking.

"I would advise that you be careful, Miss von Karma, Mr. Edgeworth," Caspian said, following Cyan up a decorated flight of stairs from the lobby. She could venture to upper levels later. Currently, she needed to find the sub-basement. There had to be some sort of entrance, some sort of way to-

"Franziska, I believe that these are the stairs that would lead to lower levels. Did you say that Agent Lang was there?"

Miles had crossed the room and stood by a doorway- a sign nearby showed a stick figure walking down a staircase. She nodded vaguely and walked in the direction. The alarm seemed to become almost louder, to the point where she could barely hear herself think. The frequency was so horribly intense that she could not imagine anyone being able to stay in the building while it sounded. Perhaps that was the point- it was attempting to clear the building of people. But what kind of al-

The _fire alarm._

The moment Miles opened the door, smoke was everywhere. She coughed repeatedly and attempted in vain to see, overcome with instant confusion. There was a fire, of course- probably several, if that was what the glow in the windows had been. The alarm signified that all should exit in order to avoid being burned to death. But why would the ring have set a fire? Most likely, it had been to burn all incriminating documents and evidence so that they could not be used in court. And potentially, to-

Agent Lang was currently in a room in this area, in the area filled with smoke and probably fire. That could not be very good.

The smoke cleared slightly, seeming to have dispersed, and she made to start down the flight of stairs. It was still difficult to see, but the overhead lights could cut through the former opaqueness, and so she would probably be able to find what she was looking for. She wondered if it was too late.

"Franziska," Miles began, "This does not seem like a very good idea. Entering a-"

"We do not exactly have a choice, Miles Edgeworth," she replied, continuing down the flight of stairs into the smoke. It seemed to be clearing slightly, perhaps as the door had been opened, though she was still hesitant to breathe. Maybe it was not a good idea at all to walk towards fire, but as she had said- there were no other options.

The hallway led from the stairs through a large conference room, in which she saw several forged pieces of artwork and possibly incriminating documents. She collected a few papers, with the thought that they could be useful in the future, and looked ahead to the rest of the passage.

There was a wall of flames. Not immediately in front of her, but deeper into the hallway there was nothing but orange and red, eating at the walls and floors and leaving only ash in its path. She had never been one to fear fire, but in her current situation, it did seem slightly threatening. And if there were fires on upper levels as well…it would only be a matter of time before the floors began to collapse. She had approximately five minutes to complete this task.

"Franziska, do you think that Agent Lang was being kept in a room in that direction?" Miles asked, pointing towards the quickly disappearing hallway. She viewed a few doorways about ten meters away.

"Yes," she responded, walking towards said doorways without waiting for approval. She did not have time for him to lecture her on the dangers of fire, especially not when the smoke was becoming thick enough to hinder her respiratory system. She wondered vaguely whether it was worse to burn to death quickly or to slowly lose consciousness into death, and elected that it was far better to avoid dying in the first place. If only she could.

She approached the first door and attempted to look into its window, however there was only grayness- the smoke had likely infiltrated the room, and she was now unable to see anything of importance. This was probably the correct location, though…she felt as though she had walked far enough in the building to find the door, and it was at the correct level. She turned the handle slightly. It was locked- another indication that it was the right room.

"Is it-" Miles began.

"Yes," she replied, knowing the question. "How exactly do you propose we enter, Miles Edgeworth?"

He was silent. She attempted to calculate the amount of force that would be necessary to break the door. If it were locked, the problem could be fixed simply by eliminating the handle, though she was unsure of how to do that. Would she have to break the entire door down, then? She felt as though she had heard of someone doing that in one of her cases, but she could not remember how or wh-

Miles inserted a key into the handle, unlocked the door, and opened it. She glimpsed a rack of keys nearby, and felt extremely irritated. How dare he notice something of that nature and not allow her to notice it as well. Fool.

Smoke swirled everywhere inside the room, and she saw nothing amidst its acridness- as though the lights had been turned out and she was left to do everything with no vision. She was unable to breathe or speak, and her hearing was vaguely impaired- she heard only the distant sound of coughing. She tried to move in its direction, but her common sense screamed at her to not do so- she could not continue any further into this death trap without completely surrendering to the poison surrounding her.

Time ticked by. She was motionless. The smoke cleared ever so slightly, but it was not enough for her to enter the room. She heard nothing more- perhaps whoever had been coughing had stopped. Perhaps they had lost consciousness. Perhaps they were dead, and she would be the same way soo-

"…Sis?"

The voice sounded hollow and dry, and though it was definitely closer than the coughing had been, she could still not see the source. Not that it particularly mattered, as she could identify who it was without hesitation.

She opened her mouth to speak and inhaled a cloud of bitter ash. She would not be participating in this conversation.

"Agent Lang?" she heard Miles say, seemingly having no problem speaking. She began to see vague outlines of her surroundings, as though the smoke was beginning to disperse faster. She was not sure whether that was fortunate, or whether it meant the fire was approaching. Did smoke disappear when fire came closer? Was it only some sort of horrid prequel for something far, far worse? Wh-

"Yeah, Mr. Edgeworth," Agent Lang said with minimal volume. "There's…someone in the next room, I think. They're prisoner too." She heard him begin to cough again, and wondered how he had managed to live in such a situation for so long. How long before had the alarm begun to ring? It had to be at least ten minutes, if not more…

"I see. Franziska, Agent Lang…you should return to the outside…I can attempt to find the other prisoner…"

She attempted to protest and inhaled more ash. She would not simply leave the building if there was still another objective to be completed! A von Karma was perfect, and she would perfectly accomplish everything.

"You won't be able to get them out yourself," Agent Lang began, "They've been unconscious for as long as I've seen them. I'll help."

She was still unable to speak, but turned to glare at Miles Edgeworth in assent.

"No," the fool stated simply, "You have been inhaling smoke for almost ten minutes, and you are probably on the verge of becoming unconscious. Franziska, you should accompany Agent Lang outside. Send in other officers to help to rescue the other prisoner."

She could tell from his partially visible expression that he planned to be stubborn on this issue. Why? Why was he so intent to prevent her from accomplishing anything? She would understand having Agent Lang leave the area, but she had not been here for nearly as long, and was perfectly capable of-

"Franziska, this is the only way to ensure that the plan works."

She coughed again and attempted to say something, anything, to protest. She would not allow him to take the credit that should have been hers, the way he seemed to every single tim-

"Sis, Mr. Edgeworth is right. We should probably leave. Were there any documents about the ring upstairs? We could try to find them."

Was he attempting to distract her? Did he expect her attention to be strayed by the promise of an incriminating paper trail elsewhere? She had a mission to complete her, and did not wa-

"Franziska. Leave. Now." Miles said sharply, glaring at her. "We are running out of time."

She assumed that he had become instantly serious, in the same manner as he had when she had been shot. Even if she could speak, there would be no arguing- he would refuse to be persuaded in any other direction. She directed a last annoyed expression at him, then forced herself to return through the hallway. The temperature had increased dramatically, and she felt as though the fire was chasing her in some way.

"This explains why I could hear so many conversations," Agent Lang remarked, following her through the apparent conference room. The air was clearer, and she observed that his face was covered in some type of awful gray soot. His eyes were dull and lifeless. She wondered briefly if she looked the same, and walked faster towards the staircase.

On the ground floor, she came to the immediate conclusion that the fire had spread. Smoke floated to the ceiling in large amounts, and there was a distant crackling sound from around the other doors. Most likely, an above floor had collapsed, causing the fire to spread to the ground floor and thus condemning the building. She glanced towards the receptionist desk, expecting to see the papers she'd been meaning to collect upon returning.

Gone. Someone had taken them. Caspian or Cyan, potentially. She was unsure of what to think.

"What is it, Sis?" Agent Lang crossed the room to the desk.

She coughed again and attempted to speak. "There were several documents here…they appear to have been removed…"

"Was anyone else in the building that could've taken them?" he asked.

"Yes…Agents Cyan and Caspian also entered the building, and-"

"Caspian?" Agent Lang's expression twisted to one of anger, and she felt an instant sense of worry, as though something was wrong. Did he have some important piece of information he had acquired since being kidnapped? More importantly, was it the proof she had been searching for?

"Yes, Agent Caspian entered. I am suspicious of h-"

"Caspian is…" he began, and then abruptly stopped. His hand flew to the desk as though bracing himself, and his face went completely blank. She knew exactly what was occurring. Smoke was filling the room, rendering her almost incapable again of seeing her surroundings- it dampened all other noise, some sort of ominous warning that the fire was coming.

But she knew what she saw and heard next. She knew that Agent Lang had collapsed. There were limits to the abilities of any human. No one could fly. No one could survive underwater. And no one could inhale toxic smoke for over fifteen minutes and expect to not feel any adverse effects. It was shocking that he had survived so well for so long under these conditions, and she knew that she could probably not do the same. The fire was approaching. The smoke was becoming deeper. She felt dizzy, as though a slight blackness tugged at the side of her consciousness. And as soon as she allowed it to take her over, she was as good as dead. They both were.

She took a last, empty glance at Agent Lang, and then ran as fast as she could from the building.

* * *

Author's note: ...No, she did not abandon him. Wait until the next chapter. Oh, and if you've read this far...please review! XD.


	13. Chapter 12

I. Am. So. Sorry. Seriously. I promise I will never abandon this story, it just took eons to finish this chapter. (I won't bore you with excuses, like the fact that I spent my entire winter break in a lab). I'll try to finish Chapter 13 as soon as possible. But this is Chapter 12- In Which Certain Conclusions Are Entirely Disproved.

I'm sorry it's all dialogue and no description. I really hate it when that happens. It's also way too long. Oh well.

Anyway, in terms of reviews...WHAT THE! FIVE REVIEWS! SERIOUSLY! That's a record. I can't remember the last time I got that many reviews on one chapter of something. Thank you very much.

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters.

* * *

_The embassy burned._

_The hall was darkened by smoke, glowing around the edges by last traces of flame. Not green- still a mixture of oranges and blues, gnawing away at his subconscious until he could pretend nothing anymore. He knew why he was here. Each footstep against the disintegrating floor was a reminder of what he chased- the truth. No, maybe not the complete truth, but an answer. He was here to face the answer to a question he had never wanted to ask in the first place. _

_He was here to find the traitor to Interpol. He was here to find Shih-na._

_He could not recall how he had come to the conclusion that she was a traitor, nor how he had entered the building, nor even how it had caught fire in the first place. There was no beginning. There was only the middle, and he was running unstoppably, uncontrollably toward the end of everything. _

_He broke down a door leading away from the hallway. He didn't know how he knew which door it was, or how he knew the color of the flames he would discover behind that door. But they were green. A rich, impossible shade of green that did not seem like fire at all. Edges of monetary bills curled in the heat, becoming instant ash. Counterfeit money._

_He didn't stop to think, entering the room in a daze of rage, eyes darting everywhere in search of the answer he was to find. There was nothing. Was he too late? Too late to stop whatever would occur from occurring? A corpse lay helplessly on the floor of the room, still spared from the flames and frozen by the desolation of death. Shih-na had been here, and was gone now. It __**was**__ too late._

"_Are you looking for something?"_

_He spun, but the surprise was distant- as though he had been expecting to hear her voice. She was by the door, the fire reflecting in her eyes, granting her a sinister quality it hurt him to see. He knew she was evil. Common sense told him she was dangerous, that she would cause him nothing but harm._

_His heart still wanted desperately to trust her. But this was the end, not the beginning. And there would be no possible sequel to their story. He had to stop her now or be stopped himself._

_He stomped in return across the room, attempting to draw his gun and finding it missing. His plan disappeared. He stopped by the door, unable to do anything at all to harm her, and lacking the mobility to do so. Paralysis set in. _

"_You should not deny the truth, Agent Lang," she said softly, approaching him, "You know exactly how you feel."_

_No!_

_She stopped in front of him, staring at him with a glint of sheer insanity in her eyes, as though this were some sort of hideous, sick game for her. Shih-na smiled._

"…_Say it."_

_He didn't speak. He heard a quiet crackling, and felt a sharp pain in his hand, traveling almost instantly up his arm. It was a burning sensation, and he looked down for a moment to see a lit match grasped in her fingers, dangerously close to where he had caught fire. He was burning down, still unable to move._

"_Say it!" she screamed._

_And the flames overtook him._

* * *

He rose in a split second, heart pounding over his vague thoughts. He wasn't on fire. He wasn't in that embassy, wasn't even in America anymore- at least, he thought he wasn't. So where was he?

Machinery surrounding him beeped feverishly, as though attempting to keep pace with the speed of his respiratory system. The walls, floor, and ceiling of the small rectangular room he occupied were a perfect white, the background interrupted only by a delicate armchair and coffee table near the white gurney-like bed he lay in. Hospital. It had to be. But why would he be in a hospital? He tried to avoid these places like the plague- they were full of nothing but the dead and the dying, two things he hated to see. And there was no reason for him to ever come to one voluntarily- excepting the instance the previous week. So why was he here now?

He was struck by a series of violent coughs. Ash scratched at the back his throat, fighting to escape from his lungs. Had he breathed in smoke? Had there actually been some sort of fire that had brought him here to the place he hated?

He got to his feet, pulling away the wire monitoring his heartbeat and listening for any signs of life outside. The door was closed, but there was the distant hum of voices, a barrage of Allebahstian language waiting to be released. He walked to the door, slowly regaining the strength he supposed he'd lost before. A headache seemed about to tear into his brain, and he wondered if there was any decent coffee in the building to fight it.

The door opened easily, and he entered an equally white, bleak hallway. Doctors passed him uncaringly, and he continued unnoticed into a large, reception area, dotted with chairs for those waiting. Was he supposed to look for someone? He felt an absence of memory that seemed to occur whenever he awoke in an unfamiliar place- exactly what had occurred when he had been kidnapped.

Kidnapped. The smuggling ring. The fleeing of their headquarters. The fire. They'd left him there to die, but he had escaped- or tried to at least. But how-

"Agent Lang!"

He glanced up to see von Karma and Mr. Edgeworth approaching him, seeming almost surprised. Had they been waiting there for him? He remembered suddenly the attempted escape from the building- how he had been found but then gone unconscious before leaving. Firefighters must have rescued him or the like.

"Are you certain that you have recovered?" the older prosecutor asked, "I was told that yo-"

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said. His voice was still choked from the ash. "What time is it?"

"Approximately nine hundred hours," von Karma said, glancing at a nearby hospital door, "we were waiting for the other man rescued to wake up. I did not expect that you would recover so quickly."

And he had not recovered quickly from the bullet wound the week before? "Lang zi says: th-"

"You had been informing me of something important before you lost consciousness, Agent Lang," von Karma interrupted impatiently. He searched through his obscured memory for what had occurred, and remembered.

"Yeah, I found out something about Agent Caspian. He works for the ring. Apparently, the ring thought I wasn't going to escape, so they told me."

It sounded strange now that he said it, and he could still not completely understand why Shih-na had told him. Even if she had thought he wouldn't escape, it seemed a strange piece of information to provide a prisoner with. Something was eerily wrong, and he tried to destroy the thought that perhaps Shih-na was not so loyal to the ring after all. She was an evil traitor. She had no reason to provide him with the information aside from mocking him with the fact he had not figured it out before.

Von Karma seemed unsurprised at his statement, "Yes, I had thought so. I will return to the Bureau of Investigation to speak with him as soon as this meeting is finished."

He glanced at the closed hospital door and remembered the stranger that had been in the next cell. "Why don't you go now, sis? Mr. Edgeworth and I will talk to him, and you should probably deal with the Caspian issue as fast as possible."

She opened her mouth as if to protest, as though delegating work wasn't something he did every single day.

"We will keep you informed, Franziska." Mr. Edgeworth added.

Von Karma looked vaguely annoyed, but assented. "Fine. I will expect to hear all important developments immediately after they occur."

He nodded, and she turned and left the lobby in a reluctant fashion. The white hospital door loomed before him enigmatically, as though taunting him with that same secret he'd been trying to find the day before in captivity. Behind that door was the answer he'd been searching for- and he would not be burned down this time.

* * *

She located Caspian in one of the main hallways branching from the reception area of the Bureau, in some sort of important conversation with Cyan. Whatever he was talking about would have to wait a very, very long time. He had an immense amount of explaining to do.

"Yes, it should be happening very shortly, now that Agent Lang has been rescued," Caspian was saying calmly as she approached.

"Alright. I'll be there. Be ready." Cyan responded, then glanced up to see her. "Well, if it isn't everyone's favorite traitor! How are things today in the land of hypocrisy, von Karma?"

She reached automatically for the whip, then stopped herself and focused on the Caspian issue. She could exact revenge upon Cyan at a later time- for now, she had a criminal to stop once and for all.

"Is something wrong, Miss von Karma?"

She glared at him. "Agent Caspian, I would like to speak with you about an important issue."

"What is it, von Karma? We haven't got the time to listen to your silly rants."

"I do not wish to speak with you, Agent Cyan. And I would prefer that the conversation took place in an interrogation room, to prevent your escape."

Caspian's eyes widened, "I do not understand, Miss von Karma…do you mean that I-"

"Just go with it, Caspian. We all know you wouldn't hurt a rabid dog if it was about to tear your arm off. I'll watch from the outside to make sure evil prosecutor lady here doesn't do the same."

She took a moment to realize that Cyan had just compared her to a rabid, arm-tearing dog, and it took every molecule of restraint to refrain from actually tearing the agent's arm off. She gave a last glare at Caspian, urging him to follow her to the closest interrogation room. He obliged with some hint of worry. And if she had learned only one thing (which she hadn't) in her six years as a prosecutor, it was that worry _always _meant guilt.

The interrogation room was small and virtually empty, if but for a metal table and two metal chairs on either side of it. The atmosphere was cold and unforgiving, which she supposed was beneficial considering what was to happen in this room. A large window was situated on the wall by the door, unfortunately allowing Cyan to look in on her questioning and 'guard' against any ill will. The agent waved at her sarcastically, and she wondered why the transparency of the window was two-way.

"Miss von Karma, I really do not understand what has happened…as I have told you before, I am not involved wi-"

She interrupted him with irritation, wondering how he could continue to deny the truth. "As you are aware, Agent Lang has been rescued."

"Yes, so he has. I am relieved to hear that he is alright." Caspian feigned an even greater confusion, as though he was not sure where she ventured with this statement.

"He has informed me of something that he learned while in captivity by the smuggling ring."

She had never officially interrogated a suspect before, and was entirely unsure of how she was to present the information in a confession-inducing manner. So far the agent seemed nonreactive.

"Was it very useful to the investigation?"

"Yes, it was extremely useful," she said, looking up suddenly to glare at him. "He has informed me that you are a member of the ring, exactly as I had suspected."

Caspian looked down. "There must be some sort of mistake…are you certain that Agent Lang is remembering correctly? Or perhaps he made an error in collecting the information?"

"I _highly_ doubt that, as he was informed of it by the smuggling ring itself. Do you have any explanation for why this would have occurred?" she snapped.

"The smuggling ring could have been attempting to confuse and mislead him…there is no reason to suspect me of working for them. I could never."

She felt an instant increase in anger at his abject denial. "They were _not _attempting to do so, as they did not believe that he would escape. Furthermore, I have other proof that you are indeed involved with the ring." She said, reaching for the bag in which she currently carried evidence (the lockers were untrustworthy), and pulling out several sheets of unrelated paper. She had no other proof, at least not in the form of hard evidence. This was…what was it called? A bluff? It was highly un-von Karmic, and seemed more along the lines of something that foolish defense attorney, Phoenix Wright, would do. How horrible that she would have to resort to such tactics.

"You have further proof? But Miss von Karma, I can assure you that there should be nothing to indict me of-"

"Why don't you trust me? I explained the situation to you before, and you know exactly who I'm loyal to," she read from memory, "I need to be informed of developments in the organization. You can't stop telling me things and expect the plan to still work," she paused, "Need I continue?"

There was a long silence, and she observed Caspian's face go blank with fear. She had revealed him.

"Yes, I did send an email of that nature…but I cannot think of how that could be interpreted to prove my guilt…" he mumbled weakly.

"Then what exactly is your explanation of this email? How does it _not _prove your guilt, Agent Caspian?"

"I…" he was silent, and she wondered if it would be necessary to press him on the issue, "…have no other explanation."

She stared at him, in amazement that he would cease fighting after only a few bombs were thrown his way. It had been so much simpler than all other criminals she had stopped before, who would have invented a million excuses in a second. Quercus Alba had. Calisto Yew had. It was almost as though Agent Caspian was not even a valid member of the ring, though she knew he was now.

"Miss von Karma…there is something that I should inform you of," he began quietly, "However, it is highly secret among Interpol, and I need to be certain that I may trust you…"

Surprise registered in her brain in response. Was this real? Was he actually about to reveal something important to the investigation, something that would prove his guilt? Or was this something else entirely?

She gave him a look of impatience, a gesture for him to continue.

"I had tried to keep this away from you, as I believed it might compromise my role if I told too many people…but I suppose I must tell you now. It is true…I am affiliated with the smuggling ring."

She stood in a second, and slammed her hands onto the desk with some force, "So you ad-"

"However, by that same token…I am against them…"

She remained standing, the tension growing to an almost unbearable level.

"What are you attempting to say?" she snapped, still completely unsure of what was occurring.

He smiled forlornly, as though it was difficult to say what he said then. Difficult to confess to his crime and finally face the punishment he deserved. She was so close to having his complete admission of his crime, to exacting her justice upon him. He was a vile criminal, and he would pay.

"You see…I am a double agent."

…Or not.

* * *

"So, you were able to get that other prisoner out by yourself?" He asked, still watching the hospital door. There were no signs of life from behind it- though considering how the stranger had been bleeding before, it would probably take quite a while to recover. He wondered how long they had been there, or who exactly they were for that matter.

"No, I had the assistance of the fire department. Franziska informed them of the prisoner's location, and they were able to remove him before he inhaled too great a quantity of smoke," Mr. Edgeworth informed him stoically, "They recovered a bullet from his arm, but it has not yet been matched to any gun. He suffered severe bleeding and possible infection, so I heard."

He contemplated the facts for a moment, wondering if the stranger could even awaken for long enough to tell them his name or why he had been in a cell in the basement of the ring's headquarters.

"What else has happened while I was gone?" he questioned, wondering what had occurred with his pack during his absence. He was not concerned- they were well-trained, and knew to follow von Karma and Mr. Edgeworth if trouble arose. But he did not want to appear weak in front of them by having abandoned them. He could _never_ do that.

"There were some accusations that you were involved in the smuggling ring, but those were quickly overruled. I was falsely accused of murdering an Interpol agent, but the charges were dropped upon evidence that proved me innocent."

"An Interpol agent?" he asked, snapping back to attention.

"Yes, three members of your team were killed during the reclamation of Ms. Yew."

He felt as though he'd been stabbed. How could that have happened? How could he have been so incredibly stupid as to jeopardize their safety? He had let them down!

"Who!"

Mr. Edgeworth paused, "I have no idea. I would imagine that the coroner would have that information. I…do not think that it was your fault, however. You could not have foreseen that the ring would attack in such a way."

He looked down in a horrible, burning anger that no amount of reassurance could ever extinguish. The smuggling ring was going to pay. First Hicks, now his own men had been killed by-

"On that subject…what occurred to you during your time in captivity?"

He took a moment to remember the information he'd collected amidst twenty-four hours of confusion, unwanted recollections, and a horrible conversation he never, ever wanted to repeat.

"Like I said before, Caspian's working for the ring. They're also planning something important to happen the day after tomorrow- or…tomorrow, I guess. Quercus Alba seems angry at Shih-na for some reason, and she's acting really strangely."

He would call that an understatement, considering what had happened.

"Do you know what exactly they are planning?" Mr. Edgeworth asked.

"No idea. I saw a few forgeries lying around as we were leaving though, so it's probably something to do with that. Didn't you and sis find some fake artwork in that defense attorney's car?"

"Yes, we did. I would say tha-"

A quiet voice interrupted the prosecutor. "Excuse me, mister? Are you Mr. Edgeworth? Are you waiting for Mr. Doe to wake up?"

It took him a moment to realize that by 'Mr. Doe' she was implying the stranger in the room. The hospital evidently had no idea what to call that man either.

"Yes, I am."

"Um…" the girl in the white coat saw the prosecutor and looked down, beginning to mumble, "I'm…Mr. Doe's nurse? I thought that you…sir, might want to know that…Mr. Doe has woken up? I mean, if you're busy, I can just leave and not bother you, I…don't want to interrupt if you're having some important conversation…I mean…you must be a very important person, right? You shouldn't have to talk to lowly nurses like me…I mean…um…"

He glanced at Mr. Edgeworth, who was regarding the nurse with a look of complete confusion.

"Hey, thanks," he said to her, seeing as the person she spoke to had no response, "Has he said anything yet?"

The nurse looked at him, turned bright red and began mumbling at a ridiculous pace. "I mean…I wouldn't…I don't think he…said anything yet…I mean, I just know he's awake because his eyes open and usually when your eyes open you're awake and I really don't know anything else I'm so sorry…I mean…is there anything I can do for you, um…Mister…um…sir?"

"Not yet," he said, unsure of how to respond to a person who seemed to enjoy rambling so much, "If we have a problem, we'll ask you."

The nurse turned impossibly redder. "I mean…I really want to help but my shift is ending really soon and I won't be here anymore and I wouldn't want to cause problems for um…important men like yourselves and I really-"

"You! What do you think you're doing!"

He glanced across the lobby to see a particularly angered doctor screaming in the general direction of the nurse. She executed an impressively high jump in surprise.

"That's! I! Have to leave now! I'm sorry!"

The nurse turned and sped across the lobby towards the doctor as though fleeing a time bomb. He glanced over to see Mr. Edgeworth's confused but not-at-all-surprised face and decided things like that must have happened often to the prosecutor. It must have been annoying.

"I suppose that means we should speak to…Mr. Doe now?"

He nodded, walked the few feet to the foreboding hospital door, and opened it noiselessly. All sides of the room were the perpetual, blinding shade of white, and décor was sparse, if not nonexistent. The hum of machines and the smell of Isopropyl alcohol dominated the plain background, interrupting its peacefulness and making sure all who entered the room were aware that this was a hospital. Not a place of rest. A place where people _died._

He hated it here. Almost as much as he had hated that equally white cell he'd gotten out of only recently.

The unidentified prisoner was there, appearing nearly lifeless on the hospital gurney. Their face was exactly as he'd seen before- pale, listless, and empty. In fact, the only difference between the stranger from before and this 'Mr. Doe' was their surroundings, and the fact that their arm had been covered in numerous bandages from their gunshot wound. And then, of course, that their eyes were wide open in terror.

"I've…told you everything…I know…" they spoke, voice cracked and almost indistinguishable from the machine hum, "Please…I don't know anything else…"

He shot a glance at Mr. Edgeworth. What exactly was he hearing?

"…I haven't told anyone about what I know…I'll burn my information…no one will ever find out…just please…let me go…"

It sounded eerily like the pleading of a tortured man, and he wondered what exactly had occurred before he'd been kidnapped. Evidently, it had been nothing particularly good on the ring's part. He walked forward a few steps to more clearly hear what Mr. Doe said.

"No! I swear! I won't tell anyone! Don't h-"

"We're not with the ring. I'm Shi-Long Lang, from Interpol, and this is Prosecutor Edgeworth. You're in the hospital." He said bluntly, wondering how the location could not be completely obvious. Maybe being kept inside a tiny white room for days on end while bleeding to death could make one confused and disoriented.

"…What?"

Mr. Edgeworth explained, "Interpol succeeded in locating the headquarters of the smuggling ring, though the members of the ring escaped after setting the building alight. You were found in the basement of said headquarters with serious injuries and brought here yesterday evening."

Mr. Doe's eyes grew wider.

"So it's over? You're not…here to torture me?"

"How long were you there?" he asked, changing the subject, "It looked like you'd been shot a while before."

There was a long pause.

"…I don't know. If I had to guess…four to six days…that's how long ago I was shot and they brought me in. They said they thought I'd been figuring out a little too much about them, and wanted to put a stop to it once they found out who I'd told," the patient spoke more fluidly, as though recovering.

"And…" Mr. Edgeworth began solemnly, "Who are you, exactly?"

"Oh! Sorry, I thought you knew. I was the defense attorney in Mr. Alba's trial. The name's Jacob Baikal."

He felt as though all the machinery had spontaneously stopped beeping, as though time itself had heard the news and had been unable to refrain from pausing to compute.

He turned to the prosecutor, "Didn't sis say…?"

"Franziska did believe that he was an important figure in the smuggling ring, from the notebook she found. Apparently it stated that someone involved in the trial fulfilled that description, and so it was only logical to assume it was Mr. Baikal. We also found some sculptures and forgeries in his car tha-"

Baikal interrupted, "The notebook? You mean that journal I was using to record my information about the ring? You found that?"

"Yeah, we did," he said, looking back at the defense attorney, "You're saying you wrote it?"

"I did, but I was keeping it in my office. I mean, I wouldn't be surprised if the ring stole it when they ransacked my office the other day, but I hadn't thought to check. How did you end up with it? Was it in their headquarters?"

"No…" Mr. Edgeworth said with a tone of confusion, "It appeared in the evidence locker of the prosecutor you were to face at Quercus Alba's trial, very soon after his escape."

"It just appeared? That's…wow. Though I guess I'm not really that surprised. The ring does things that might seem completely illogical sometimes, because they have some insane master plan to foil everyone in the end. It's complicated, but they're really, _really _smart."

"Yeah, we know that. They kidnapped me and tried to manipulate me into telling Interpol I was on their side. They've been trying to distract us while they plan something important. You know anything about it?" he questioned, ignoring Mr. Edgeworth's surprised glance at his statement. He would have to avoid discussing exactly _how _the ring had been trying to manipulate him. It wasn't as though anyone needed to know, anyway.

"Oh, I remember that!" Baikal said, seeming slightly excited, "I knew they were planning something really important to happen soon, and I knew it was going to be here in Allebahst, but I just hadn't figured out exactly what it was. I thought maybe I could help get the answer out of Quercus Alba at the trial. I know I'm no prosecutor, but that guy was so obviously guilty there was no point in even defending him."

He was glad to hear that statement, especially from someone once thought to be a member of the ring themselves. But there was still something…odd…

Mr. Edgeworth asked for him. "Could you think of why valuable artwork and forgeries would be found in your vehicle, then?"

"You found those in my car? That's…it must have been, before the trial, I had just gotten out of my car when Quercus Alba and the guards showed up. He started talking to me and I forgot to lock the doors. I bet the ring decided to put some incriminating evidence in the car to confuse the police when they investigated later. I'm really not involved in the ring at all. I was just trying to stop them, and they figured out I knew something. Sorry I've caused so many problems for everyone."

It sounded highly plausible, and he elected that believing someone who had been shot, kidnapped, and tortured for days by the ring was probably alright.

"It's fine. I'll send in another agent to make sure your story checks out, and you should be safe from the ring here," he said, reasonably sure that was the truth.

"Thank you for your assistance in the investigation," Mr. Edgeworth added, "Agent Lang, we should probably return to the police department to see if Franziska has found something."

"Yeah, you're right," he affirmed, taking a last glance at Baikal, who looked significantly better. "Maybe sis has a confession."

* * *

That had _not _been a confession. Not a confession at _all._

"_What?" _she demanded, eyes widening to the size of small oceans. What _exactly _would drive Caspian to claim double agency? And more importantly, could it possibly be the truth?

"…Many years ago, I was an Interpol agent under a different name…I was requested to infiltrate the smuggling ring, and I did so, claiming I no longer wanted to be a part of Interpol. They created a new identity for me, and then had me infiltrate the very organization I had come from because they believed I would have better knowledge of how to remain secret. I reported my story immediately to the leader of Interpol, and I have been providing the organization with information about the smuggling ring since then. The smuggling ring has some vague suspicions of me, and so it is important that I keep my identity hidden. Please do not tell anyone you believe might reveal me, Miss von Karma."

She had never met a true double agent in her life- in fact; she had doubted their existence in the first place. It would be so tremendously difficult to keep one's stories straight, to manage to make one side think you were tricking the other while…well, she couldn't imagine.

"Do you have proof?"

Caspian looked down. "I am not sure you would consider this proof, though I did provide you with the journal of Jacob Baikal, which granted you some information into the ring. I gave you his trial notes as well, with the hope that you would match the handwriting and deduce that your conclusions had been wrong."

"_You _were the person to illegally enter my evidence locker!"

"Yes, I was the second person to do so. And…Jacob Baikal is not involved in the ring at all. The ring realized that he had too much information, and so he was kidnapped during the rescue of Quercus Alba and subjected to torture. I reported to a few other important agents the location of where he was kept, but I did not know very much about what was occurring, nor did I believe the information could be given to others in Interpol. Had I told you, you might have been suspicious of me. And if you had believed me, the smuggling ring would have uncovered my disloyalty when you appeared at their headquarters. It was very difficult for me to say nothing."

"You might have saved us from the events yesterday, Agent Caspian. Not informing me was a very _foolish _mistake," she snapped annoyedly.

"I am very sorry, Miss von Karma. I did not expect that things would result as horribly as they did, however I am relieved that Agent Lang and who I assume is Attorney Baikal are safe. I had tried to communicate to you subtlety information into the ring, however I seem to have failed. Is there anything I can do to convince you of my loyalty to Interpol?"

She paused, considering his question.

"Is there anyone other than yourself who participates in this investigation and is actually a member of the smuggling ring?" she asked, hints of worry creeping into her voice. What if there was, and she had missed it completely? And now, would it be far too late?

"…Yes." Caspian said softly, and shot a glance at the window. Cyan was nowhere to be found, as though she had left in the middle of the conversation. Probably out of sheer boredom. Maybe the agent already knew of Caspian's affiliation? Or had Cyan left too soon to have heard that?

"_Who?" _she demanded.

"You must be very discreet in your accusations, Miss von Karma. But I can tell you that Agent Cyan…the first person to break into your evidence locker…is a member of the ring. Also, there is another person who is a mem-"

The door slammed open, and they both turned in serious surprise. Her mind and adrenaline raced- she had just discovered that not only was Caspian a double agent, but that Cyan was in the ring, and that so-

"You _traitor!" _Cyan screamed, having been the one to enter, "You think you can just go around revealing people in the ring like some virtuous little double agent! You _sicken _me!"

She would have attempted to interrupt the evil agent from her tirade, if not for the gun wielded haphazardly in Cyan's hands. Another gun. Another member of the smuggling ring ambushing her and ready to shoot her. And this time, she had absolutely nowhere to run and no one to save her. Unless she could think of some plan in the next five seconds, she would be-

"I always _knew _you were trouble! I _knew _there was no way someone as disgustingly _good _as you are could _ever _go evil! You'll pay for this, you _filthy traitor to the ring!" _Cyan screamed.

There were three loud discharges of a firearm, and she felt her eyes shut against her will, preventing her from seeing the agent flee down the corridor from the sound of her footsteps. She felt no pain. Not a single injury- no feeling of cold metal colliding with warm blood. She was unharmed.

Caspian wasn't. She pried her own eyes open and looked across the table to see him there- blood blossomed over the fibers in his jacket, and she could see the dark wound in his left arm. It was a deep wound- the gun had been powerful and only a short distance away, and though the location might normally have been serious, she supposed it had torn through some important blood vessel. Caspian himself seemed generally unsurprised, but his head slumped into the table a few moments later. He was injured. Cyan had shot him. Cyan was escaping.

She felt a wave of panic lift her from her chair and push her into the hallway. A guard was walking through, evidently having heard the loud noise, and she stopped him immediately, hoping no trace of fear would be present in her voice.

"The man in this room has been shot. Call an ambulance and stop the bleeding," she said bluntly, not recognizing her voice in the least. How long had it been that the shooting had occurred? How long had Cyan had to run and to leave the building? She had to catch that criminal, _now._

"What?" the guard asked, "But…who?"

"_Go!" _she exclaimed, waving a finger at the opened door. She paused for a moment more to ascertain that the fool could even understand a simple command, then turned to race down the hallway. Cyan could not have left more than a minute before, and the most convenient exit would be through the front door of the Bureau. Logically, if one wanted to get to their vehicle immediately, that would be the nearest to the parking lot. And the only way to access the front door was through the reception lobby at the front of the building. She directed towards that area, wondering why she always felt the need to wear such impossible-to-run-in high-heeled boots.

There! She saw a flash of the agent's clothing around a corner. They were approaching the lobby, and she supposed she was gaining. If she could only increase her speed just slightly more, she would be able to stop Cyan in the parking lot before any escape could occur. She would have to deal with the gun issue when the time came. For now, it only mattered that she would stop this criminal. It mattered more than anything. It mattered more than her pride.

What?

How could something matter more than the reputation she'd tried to uphold since the beginning of her prosecuting career? How could something matter more than her last name? Than the legacy her father had left? How could stopping some foolish criminal be more important than what she'd spent her entire life trying to achieve? Was she insane?

No, that didn't matter now. She had to increase her speed or risk losing Cyan. The lobby was imminent now, and she could see the large glass doors obscured by a group of people. Cyan had cut through them easily moments before, and if she was lucky, they wouldn't slow her down.

"Miss von Karma!" someone shrieked.

She collided with that person and was knocked off course, her head impacting with the side of the glass doorway with a dull thud. Not quite stars, but intense purple and red dots appeared in her vision, and it took several blinks to make them dissipate. Cyan had entered a car and seemed to be vacating the parking space. She pushed through the door in a wave of nausea, out into the lot that only yesterday evening, had been the site of that car chase.

Cyan fired a few shots halfheartedly in her direction, and then sped away before she could even think of locating an Interpol van. Even if she had been able to, the agent would have already been far away by the time she could have entered the chase. It was too late. She had failed. Cyan had escaped, and now she would be unable to exact her justice at this time. She stopped in the empty parking space, still dizzy and entirely out of breath.

"Hey! Miss von Karma! Are you chasing someone? Can I help?"

It was a girl's voice- presumably the same girl she had collided with only moments before in the reception area. But who…?

"Hey, don't tell me you've forgotten me already! It's only been a week!"

She blinked several times at Kay Faraday, completely at a loss for what to say and having no oxygen with which to say it. Why on Earth could this foolish teenager possibly be here? And more importantly, why at a time and place that had caused her to lose a horrible criminal she might have caught? That silly self-proclaimed 'thief' had been there less than a minute and had already caused undue damage to the investigation.

"What's wrong? You seem kind of mad…"

She fought to refrain from strangling Kay Faraday, and marched back towards the front door of the Bureau. The lobby was in minor chaos, and she could see several number 1's wandering around in a state of hopeless confusion, as well as a strangely dressed man with blindingly orange hair. It took several moments for her to clear the dizziness from her mind and determine that it was Ambassador Paleano.

"Oh, Miss von Karma…Welcome to Allebahst…though I suppose you were already here…" he said calmly, as though he'd been entirely oblivious to the criminal she'd been chasing less than a minute ago.

"Ambassador Paleano, this is not the time for casual conversation," she snapped, "A criminal has just escaped, and an Interpol agent has been shot." She scanned the room for any signs as to what to do next, and heard a distant siren. The hospital was close to the Bureau, perhaps only five minutes away at the speed of normal traffic, and the ambulance went faster. That was beneficial, for once.

"Oo! Was it wolfy-boy?" Kay Faraday exclaimed with an excessive amount of excitement, "And what happened to Mr. Edgeworth? He's not really dead, right?"

"Prosecutor Edgeworth has died?" the ambassador questioned with concern, "I am very sorry to hear that, Miss von Karma."

In retrospect, the only thing that could have possibly made this situation any worse would be to have that incompetent detective here as well. Fortunately, Scruffy was nowhere in sight. Why Kay Faraday and Ambassador Paleano were however, was another mystery altogether. One she had neither the time nor the desire to solve.

She heard loud footsteps in the hallway she had come from, and looked up to witness Caspian and the guard enter the room. The agent's face was pale, and blood continued to leak from the wound, despite it having a cloth tied around it. He stumbled a few more feet to a chair, and collapsed into it as though unable to even think of standing any longer. She wondered how much more time it would take for emergency personnel to arrive, and if it would be too late.

"Someone really _did _get shot…" the teenager mumbled, "I guess that's what that siren is for. Miss von Karma, what happened?"

"He was shot by a criminal, who then fled the building. I was unable to catch that criminal, due to being detained by _you," _she said in irritation, eyes flitting wildly to the few windows in search of an arriving ambulance. There was nothing yet.

"Oops, sorry. I totally wasn't expecting you to come racing through here like that…it was kind of cool, actually..." Kay commented, "So who were you chasing? Someone from the smuggling ring?"

"Yes," she replied impatiently, "They had been posing as an Interpol agent, and were revealed."

"Oh, like Ms. Yew? And really, what happened to Mr. Edgeworth and-" Kay stopped abruptly. "Hey! Look! There they are!"

The thief pointed wildly in the direction of the door, and she turned to see that Miles and Agent Lang _had _actually returned from their apparent conversation with the hospitalized man. She supposed thirty or forty minutes had passed since she'd left the hospital, though it felt as though it could have been longer with all that had happened. She would certainly have something to tell.

They reached the door, and she heard the ambulance swerve into the parking lot with a screech of tires. The confused expression on Miles's face amused her- for once, she was aware of a fact he did not know. Not that she would have very much time to gloat about it.

"Hi! Wolfy-boy, I thought you were kidnapped! And Mr. Edgeworth, Miss von Karma told me you were dead!" Kay exclaimed.

Miles gave her a glance of annoyed confusion, "Kay, why are you here? And…Ambassador Paleano as well?"

"Well! You see, Miss von Karma called me the other day to report on the-"

"Look, you two can catch up later," Agent Lang fortunately interrupted, "Sis, why were we followed by an ambulance?"

"I was speaking with Agent Caspian, and he informed me that he was a double agent for Interpol. He also then revealed that Agent Cyan worked for the smuggling ring. Said agent then entered and shot him. I attempted to chase her, however I did not succeed due t-"

"Look! It's the ambulance!" Kay interrupted, "Wow, I haven't seen one of those in a while…"

The ambulance waited by the door with dizzying light and noise, and she watched several medical personnel exit and direct towards the building, stretcher in tow. She had seen one of these the day before unfortunately, after the fire. She had the rather ominous feeling she would be seeing many more very soon, though perhaps that was just paranoia or the like. Past performance was never quite an indication of a future trend, though it certainly seemed it was in this case.

"Franziska, how badly was Agent Caspian injured?" Miles asked, eyes surveying the EMTs as they escorted away their object of rescue.

She took a moment to calculate damage, and responded, "He was shot in the left arm, and the bullet must have caused severe blood loss in that area…I believe he will recover quickly, though. Unfortunately, there is still the issue of Agent Cyan being a fugitive from justice."

"I'll ask some of my men to do a patrol of the city and look for her," Agent Lang said, "She couldn't have gone far if she just left. What else did Caspian tell you?"

"He claimed that he was the one to give me the notebook regarding the smuggling ring, and also implied that the man currently in the hospital was Defense Attorney Jacob Baikal. Can you confirm this?" she questioned, already certain that it was the truth. It seemed to make sense, though she disliked how it disproved her main theory of the case.

Actually, everything that had happened on this day had struck down every idea she had about the case. It was the return to 'square one', or whatever such a thing was called. How could a simple attempt to find Quercus Alba to exact punishment upon him have become so incredibly complicated? It was as though for every piece of information she found, five more mysteries arose.

"Yeah, it's Mr. Baikal in the hospital. He said the ring took him during Quercus Alba's trial because they thought he might know too much, then tortured him to find out what he did know and who he'd told. The evidence you found in his car was planted by the ring, and that notebook about the ring was his."

"Who's Mr. Baikal? And who are Caspianov and Cyanide or whatever?" Kay questioned, glancing around excitedly as though looking for something to steal, "And like I was saying, wasn't wolfy-boy kidnapped or something? And Mr. Edgeworth was dead? I'm kind of confused."

She wondered briefly who could possibly have the patience to explain to this irritating teenager what was currently occurring, and glared at Miles Edgeworth. He was the one who had dragged Kay into this mess, he would have to be the one to take her out of it.

"I…" Miles began, "would be happy to explain to you what has occurred so far, but I have another important question for you first. Why and how did you arrive here, Kay?"

Exactly what she had been wondering herself. She wondered vaguely if this was an answer she would actually want to hear, though.

"Well! I'm glad you asked, Mr. Edgeworth! You see, Miss von Karma called two days ago to talk about the case, and she said that Ms. Yew had escaped. Now, obviously I've been working for seven years to find Ms. Yew and put her in prison, so I can't exactly let her run free, can I? So, I knew I had to go to Allebahst to help stop her, so I got all the information I could find from Gummy about where you guys were," Kay paused to take a breath.

"And how did you manage to go nearly halfway around the world to find us?"

"Well, I called up Ambassador Paleano, and I explained what was going on. He had to come to Allebahst anyway for the reuniting of Allebahst and Babahl, so I told him that if I got to come too, I would appear in the Capture the Yatagarasu show he wanted to have. Oh yeah, and I have to pass out these, too," the thief proceeded to hand everyone around packets of coupons, "Come to Babahl and use these coupon books! Half price on all Babahlese ink, but don't use it to make counterfeit Zheng fa bills! That's illegal!"

She blinked. "That is the most _foolish_ excuse I have ever heard for interfering with an important investigation. You-"

"Thank you for coming, Kay. We appreciate your attempts to assist with the investigation," Miles interrupted calmly. She glared at him, in shock that he would be so accepting of such a nuisance. He continued, "However, this investigation is very dangerous, and it would be better if you were to return to Los Angeles."

"What! Mr. Edgeworth, don't be like that! I'm the second Yatagarasu! Danger is my life! I can totally help you guys stop the smuggling ring! I mean, I know how they evade the police and steal things and stuff…and I can find secret entrances and exits to every building you can think of!"

Kay grinned and jumped up and down. Agent Lang appeared vaguely annoyed, and Miles seemed slightly amused. She was beginning to think that _nothing _anyone could say would convince Kay Faraday to leave. But really, a teenage girl on the investigation? As though that was safe. Even if she herself had been a teenager on every investigation she had ever done, and was technically still one now…that didn't matter! She was far more mature than any other foolish teenager who wanted to help!

"I suppose there will be no convincing you to leave then…" Miles Edgeworth the foolish fool remarked, "You should take caution not to be injured then."

"Yay! I knew you'd come through for me, Mr. Edgeworth! So anyway, what's happened so far in the investigation? Miss von Karma, can you explain?"

She grimaced in irritation, knowing there would conversations such as this one for the rest of the investigation. This case had immediately become many times more difficult, all because a certain someone had felt it his place to allow that teenager to assist them.

"Fine," she finally said, "I arrived here almost two weeks ago, immediately after the close of the case at the embassy in which Quercus Alba was arrested. I was to be the prosecutor in his trial in Allebahst, which took place five days ago. He escaped during the trial after the smuggling ring opened fire on the courtroom. Defense Attorney Jacob Baikal was taken as well, though I assumed at the time that he was a part of the ring and that he had planned the escape. Agent Lang was sent to be in charge of the case, as it related to the smuggling ring, and both Miles Edgeworth and Calisto Yew were called as well, the latter escaped police custody the next day while being escorted to a maximum security facility. Agent Lang was also kidnapped at the time. Yesterday evening, I located the headquarters of the smuggling ring, which were immediately abandoned and set on fire. Agent Lang and Jacob Baikal were found and taken to the hospital for issues with smoke inhalation."

"Oh, okay! So…Caspianov and Cyanide were two people from Interpol who helped with the case, then? And Caspianov turned out to be a double agent, and Cyanide was evil?"

"Yes, that is essentially what has occurred. I believe that-"

Kay interrupted her."So…how does Mr. Edgeworth being dead fit into all this? I'm not really a scientist or a doctor, but he seems pretty alive to me…"

"That is unimportant. He was believed to have been the murderer of another agent, but his name was cleared of the crime. Are there any additions to that story?" she asked, attempting to target Agent Lang with some degree of subtlety. He had not yet explained anything about what had occurred during his time as a kidnapped person, nor how he had been informed of Caspian's affiliation with the ring. She wondered if there was more to the story than he would tell.

" Right," he said, as though about to explain, "Like I was telling Mr. Edgeworth, the ring tried to get me to tell Interpol I was a traitor. And…something weird was going on, but it's probably nothing."

"Something weird?" Kay questioned before she could.

"The ring didn't seem completely united. Quercus Alba was really angry at Shih-na for some reason, and she seemed to be breaking some rules herself, I think. She was the one who told me about Agent Caspian."

Somehow, she couldn't help but think that he was still hiding something. Had something else occurred during his time at the ring's headquarters? How exactly had the ring planned to make him cooperate? He certainly didn't seem to have undergone any physical torture…and how could he know that Quercus Alba was upset with Calisto Yew? Something did not add up.

"Also, Agent Lang…" Miles spoke, "You stated that the ring was planning something to happen the day after tomorrow? Something to do with the forgeries?"

"Yeah. Tomorrow, actually. And from what I overheard, it sounds really serious. They've been trying to cause chaos in Interpol so we won't realize what they're planning, and so far it's working."

She looked at him in sudden surprise. "Tomorrow! Are you absolutely certain!"

"I am. Is something wrong, Sis?"

Her fingers tugged at her whip forcefully, "Yes! This means we have only a day or less to discover _exactly _what the ring intends to do, find _everyone _who is assisting them, and stop whatever horrid event they are planning from happening!"

There was a long, dead silence as the information sunk into the collective consciousness.

"…Guess I came at a good time, then?" Kay remarked halfheartedly.

No one laughed.


End file.
